There Can Only Be One
If you know me personally, you know that my first year of college was extremely eye opening and an experience that I desperately and truly needed. You know that I spent many of the last months transforming, learning, and discovering more and more about myself. It’s been amazing. My year at Loyola Marymount has easily been the best year of my life so far, the more time that passes from May 5th, the more heartbreak I feel. I spend every day wishing I was back on campus.
Of course, there were a few things that happened in the last year that were less than desirable or challenging, but if I could go back I wouldn’t change anything.
However, one change that I’m going to try to adopt for my sophomore year is that I need to get out of the mindset that “there can only be one”.
Within my friend group, we’re all distinct and different, but somehow it works. There’s Jessie, the vegetarian art major who loves parmesan. Aisea, the Basque lover of bread, the finance major. Mackenzie, the film and television major, Harry Potter loving “cool and collected” one. You get the idea. Everyone has things that define them. This is obvious, but this is also where I struggle.
I think when I started college I wasn’t exactly sure where I was going to end up. In high school, I was everywhere all at once, a part of everything. In college, I knew I wanted to have a few things I could really focus on instead of spreading myself thin, but I still struggled with “defining” myself. This is where my friendships come in.
I struggled with their defining qualities because they often overlapped mine. There’s one aspect of one of my life that is fairly unique that people always associate with her because she has somewhat similar experiences, which is hard for me (trying to keep this vague, I don’t want this to be a cry for help or call anyone out). I often feel like my feels are invalid or lesser when compared to her, so sometimes when I’m having it (seemingly) worse than she does I get frustrated because I don’t want to act like my problems are so much bigger and worse than hers.
It’s something I’m just going to have to get over, but it’s hard when people always ask her about this “quality” while I’m sitting here silently suffering. I just feel like I’m being overlooked sometimes, or people will tell me that others have it worse.
Other people’s pain doesn't make me feel better about mine. I’m still hurting.