2014

Ah, it's been too long since I've written anything here. I was a little busy finishing up 2014.

This was possibly the best year of my life. To review some of the main things that happened:

- Got my driver's license

- Accepted my offer of admission to my university 

- Quit my 10 year competitive gymnastics career

- Graduated from high school (aka the ninth layer of hell)

- Got a job

- Started college

- Finished my first semester

The year started off a little rough with rejection letters every other day, either from colleges or potential jobs. But after a very long time of meditation, I think I've mostly come to terms with everything. It still hurts to think about how much I sacrificed for some of those, but I am very happy with where I am now.

Graduating high school was the second best part of the year. It was one of the best feelings of my life to walk out of the ceremony, knowing that it was all behind me. Just imagine how it would feel to spend two years of your life wishing for nothing more to leave the place you hate more and more every second you're in it--and then, you leave. I consider myself very fortunate to never have to step foot in my high school again.

The best part of the year, of course, was starting college. Initially, I doubted myself, as unfortunately, I do in everything. I questioned whether I was actually good enough for college. And I'm not exaggerating when I say that the night before my first day, I felt actual terror. But it was okay. It was great. I am finally in a place that I feel I've needed to be in for a very long time, which is extremely comforting. Granted, there were a fair amount of challenges, annoying projects, and disappointing grades, but it all worked out okay. Regardless, I'm happy. And to be honest, I kind of wanted those challenges. 

Also notable was getting a job; not my first job, but my first real job in a real company with real guidelines. It was completely terrifying and hard for a few weeks, but I'm really thankful I stuck with it. It's the first job I've had that has made going out my comfort zone second nature. That's saying something. Customers almost always are kind and appreciative of the tasks I do for them, which I guess is something I enjoy, a lot. Perhaps sometimes it is definitely thankless, but I enjoy helping others, a breath of fresh air from being a student, which is a completely self-centered position.

I am very happy with 2014. It had its downs, of course, as every year does. But the ups were definitely ups. Ups that make me very happy to be alive. You were great 2014. 2015 can only be better. 

The Pain of Being Introverted

It's Halloween. I'm supposed to be at a party that theoretically allows me to meet other scholarship students. I walk in, and almost immediately tense up. I completely shut down. Instead of trying to talk to anyone, I choose to text my friend to hurry up and arrive before I die of discomfort.

Ah, the joys of being an introvert.

It's not like I can't talk to people I don't know. And I pride myself on being (somewhat) easy to talk to. It's just that it's so damn hard. My heart goes in my throat, and it requires a sincere effort to get the words out of my mouth. And usually, I can put on a pretty brave front and act like I talk to strangers all the time (after all, I did do this when I worked in retail...but that was mostly because I would get fired if I didn't). But it requires way too much effort.

And the worst part of talking to people you don't know is that 99% of the time, you have nothing to talk about. So naturally, you pretend you have something to talk about. You ask them where they're from. Their major. Their hobbies. The freaking weather. Uggh. It's so hard and boring.

And that's not where the implications of being introverted stop. Something I suffered from throughout high school was the fact that my brother and I were literally in every class together. He is the polar opposite of me--crazy extroverted, natural leader, everyone loves talking to him, etc. So naturally, there was a constant comparison. Sometimes he would even blatantly point out how quiet I was in class, which is probably the last thing you want to do to anyone. And if I ever tried to talk to anyone, he would point that out too. "Oh, look who's finally talking to someone. Maybe you won't go through life alone." And then I would stop talking. So it's not just being introverted that hurts; it's the fact that more extroverted people notice and usually feel every obligation to blatantly point it out.

In many people's eyes, being introverted generally has a negative connotation--one that usually points to a social outcast. I wouldn't go that far. If you put me in the right situation, I'll talk. If you give me the right person, I can talk forever. But the problem is that the conditions have to be just so for me to feel completely comfortable. If not, usually I'll force myself to appear more extroverted, and it is a painful, painful process to pretend to be someone you're not. Yet, I wouldn't have met my friends this semester if I hadn't pretended like I wasn't introverted. Ah, the necessity of being as extroverted as possible in this society.

I'm getting better. I have done so many things within the past few months that I knew would be good for me but made me extremely uncomfortable. Heck, I even joined a somewhat clique-y club. Alone. And I am fitting in, slowly, but I'm getting there.

Sometimes it can be agonizing being introverted, but most of the time I'm okay with it. There are some advantages, but sometimes it is incredibly difficult feeling pressure to be someone I'm not naturally in this extroverted society. Or maybe, this society is actually introverted and we're all having to fake it to have a decent quality of life.

Secular or Expanded Horizons?

It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it. - Aristotle

Up until college, my education was largely Christian-based. At times, it was more Christian than others (sometimes very uncomfortably Christian). As a Christian, most of the time I was fine with it, and in reality, it's not too different from a more "secular" form of education like one would receive in a public school. But in high school, I started to like it less and less because of what it led to represent--which was something very un-Christian: bigotry.

Take, for instance, biology. If you're taught biology from a Christian perspective, you basically have the idea of intelligent design drilled into you. There's nothing wrong with learning about intelligent design. In fact, everyone should. Yet there is something wrong with not learning the other side of the argument, aka what many uneducated call "evolution" which they actually mean to be microevolution (for this reason, I wasn't taught anything about the theory of evolution until I took AP biology, and only then, it was done grudgingly out of necessity).

The term "evolution" has a very dirty meaning in the Christian education system. Ignorantly, many people assume that evolution as a whole means that God didn't design the world, and that everything came about through one thing being derived from another. However, an educated Christian would realize this is ridiculous. A large portion of evolution cannot be argued, or very well at least; for example, if you have a population of a species that you separate by some biological barrier, such as a geographical barrier or reproductive barrier (this is known as allopatric and sympatric speciation, respectively), the species is going to evolve. In each case, the species is going to have adapt in some way to the change. You cannot deny that, regardless of your faith, or lack thereof. 

In actuality, the part of evolution that denies intelligent design and what many Christians are probably upset about is microevolution. Microevolution basically concerns the very beginning of evolution. It attempts to answer the question of how everything came to exist. A devout Creationist would say that God created everything, and that's the end of that. But for evolutionists, the question is not so easily answered. In an attempt to prove that life could be fashioned from simple gases present in the early earth's atmosphere, there was a famous experiment done called the Miller-Urey experiment in which scientists recreated early earth's conditions in a closed system. They ran the system for a while, even recreating lightning that was present on early earth by sending electricity through it. After the experiment ran, there were a few substances present, notably, one or two amino acids, that led the scientists to conclude that life could be made just out of the air, literally.

My point in detailing this experiment is that many Christians would have a very negative reaction to this. But it fascinates me. Perhaps I don't really accept it, but I still find it intriguing. In fact, it's the clearest thing I remember from advanced biology.

Now in college, I see the "secular" side of it that I was warned of sooooo much from my past teachers. "College will try to convert you. You need to be strong in your faith. Take everything non-Christian with a grain of salt, because it's not right." I heard that about a billion times before I actually got here. On reflection, it was one of the most bigoted things I've ever heard. 

In my introduction to philosophy class, we're covering philosophy of religion right now. There are so many arguments against God that I have never been aware of, and it is incredibly engaging. For the first time in my life, I am seeing the other side of the argument. And while I may not accept it, I am extremely interested. It is expanding my horizons, opening my eyes to ideas and letting me consider them for myself without the noise of others' opinions. It makes me realize how lacking my education prior to college was, because it just exemplifies how incredibly biased it was--something, I'm sure, is not Christian in any way.

I am not bashing Christianity. I am bashing bigotry, and trying to show that it actually limits your education. If you choose to only see one side of the problem, you're ignorant. The better thing to do is to fairly consider both sides of the problem and draw your own conclusions, rather than forcing your opinions on others. 

Perhaps I am just extremely tolerant and open to different ideas. But shouldn't we all be? After all, education really is just the act of expanding your horizons. Why not take full advantage of that?

The Difference a Year Can Make

This week has been a struggle. For one, it's the week before midterms. And second, I've contracted an annoying cold that has left me sniffling every 5 seconds. Yeah, I'm "that girl" that everyone hates for going to school sick. Sorry, but, education, you know.

So on Wednesday, I was eating lunch in the cafeteria before my programming lecture. I looked and felt horrible, and genuinely just wanted to eat alone. Alas.

I was approached by two students who asked me if they could sit down. My first thought was no. That was followed up by Why do they want to sit with me when there are like 20 open tables? But me, being too nice for my own good, said "Yeah, sure!" and made space for them. Also, you can't really say no when someone asks if they can sit with you...unless you want to be a complete douche bag.

I looked at them and waited. What were they going to pitch to me this time? The guy speaks up. "We are a Christian organization on campus," he says. "What is your spirituality?"

I stared at him with my tired, puffy eyes. Dear God. Look at me. LOOK AT ME. Do I really look like I want to discuss this?

"Uhhh...what do you mean? Like, what is my religion?" I say, feeling uncomfortable discussing this with a complete stranger. He nods. Oh shit, I think. I can't believe I'm having to answer this. I gave a pretty weak, general answer, because I felt too uncomfortable to really give them depth.

Based on my answer, they probably sensed I was desperately in need of Jesus. To get at this, he then asked me "Are you happy with your life?"

This question took the cake. It was startling. You don't just ask random strangers if they're happy with their lives! I have never in my life really considered this question. Yeah, sure, everyone has an idea of exactly how religious they are. But not many people stop and truly consider if they're happy with their lives.

My answer was that relative to last year, yes, I am happy. I understand that if I had said no, that could be a way they could get me more interested in joining the organization because of the promise that becoming more religious would equate to more happiness. Or at least, I think that's what their mindset was. Regardless, I've been thinking about this question ever since.

I find it difficult to imagine anyone truly, wholly, 100% happy with his or her life. Is that actually possible? Won't there always be something that detracts from your happiness, even if in a negligible way? Something in your unhappier past, or something in the uncertainty of the future, that makes you less happy at the current stage of your life? What does it really take to be happy?

So, am I happy now? I can't answer that without making a comparison.

A year ago, I was miserable. I knew I was unhappy at the time, but in hindsight, I was actually miserable. I had a host of problems on my plate, with the biggest portion devoted to the life-sucking college admissions process. I was also stuck in a school I loathed--every second I was there, I spent my "free time" staring at the pictures of the previous graduating classes on the wall and just constantly thinking "When is that going to be me? Am I ever going to get there?" To further emphasize how unhappy I was, I want to share some segments of my journal entries throughout the year.


"I hope this road through high school ends at a desirable location. I feel blind and lost on the path to what I want. I'm only hoping everything will turn out...is that okay? To just hope and try your best to act on it?"

"I just want to know I'll be okay, I suppose. That when I stand on the stage at graduation in a year, looking into my parents' eyes and grasping my diploma...that I feel accomplished and proud. That it all paid off. That everything was for something. Because right now, it definitely doesn't feel like it."

"I don't understand how I could have worked so hard and done so much and dreamed so much and it just came down to 6 rejections."

"What is there to focus on when your whole life, you've focused on the long term and that has driven you to excel and then suddenly your long term gets crushed very quickly?"

"I put everything I had into this school, and I'm still not good enough."

"I feel like I haven't gotten a chance to take a step back and breathe and think about everything. Too busy to be happy, really."

"[...] Because the only idea I'm holding onto is that life will somehow be better after I graduate."

"A year from now, I'll be at one of those colleges and I will be happy."


I apologize; that was pretty depressing. Yet, realistic. What strikes me is that now, a year later, the difference in my happiness level is comparable to the difference between day and night. Somehow, a year ago, I knew things would get better, but I didn't fully accept it. I was just waiting for it to happen. And it finally happened, my first week of college; all of that disappointment I'd carried with me for months disappeared very quickly.

Sure, I've still got things that concern me, but I can say that I am relatively happy. As I've already said, for once in my life, I feel like I am, academically, in the right place. It is astonishing the difference that that has made in my happiness level. It was practically everything I needed.

Perhaps complete happiness can be achieved by feeling like everything just fits -- as if every component of your past and present life are in perfect harmony. Until then, I can say I'm genuinely happy with my current level of happiness.

Even Expectations Are Shocking

Right now in my rhetoric class, we're putting the final touches on our rhetorical analyses. And let me tell you, I'll be glad to be rid of it. I hate the stuffiness of MLA format and the boring content. Give me creative writing that allows me to bleed a free flow of my ideas any day.

Anyway, as we finish up these essays, we are supposed to review our peers' papers. I wasn't too worried about this; I've always been told I write well and I can't think of an essay I got below an A on. So, it came as a surprise that someone who reviewed my paper said my analysis was "all over the place", my introduction and conclusion were "weak to average", and on a scale of 1 to 10, he would give it a "6/10, I guess."

Believe me, I can take constructive criticism. Heck, I can take mean criticism. But somehow, I was still mildly taken aback by these comments. And the root of it is basically this: I've never been told I'm average at anything.

I'm going to attempt to explain this in the least conceited way possible (I swear I am a humble person). But let me put it this way: if my high school had had a valedictorian, I'm almost certain it would have been me. With the exception of AP biology, my class averages were always 98 or over. I stood out to my teachers because I worked hard, actually committed myself to do the homework (unlike my peers), and just "got" everything--even things I didn't particularly like. Every teacher always had some sort of praise for me, and I basically glided through high school as one of the smartest and most ambitious.

Going into college, I knew things were going to change. I knew I wouldn't be one of the best anymore, but I welcomed that. There is an excellent quote that goes like "If you're the smartest person in the room, you're in the wrong room." That quote really speaks to me, and ever since I read it, I craved that feeling. I was sick of feeling like everyone around me was stupid. It would be refreshing to have others smarter than I was around me.

And it has been great. For once in my life, academically, I feel like I'm in the right place. I enjoy not being able to answer questions that many others can, because it means that the competition is equal or better than my own abilities. In a way, I enjoy the slight struggle to understand everything new I'm learning, because it means I'm being intellectually challenged, something I ached for throughout high school.

Perhaps it has been tough medicine to swallow that I don't stand out anymore. The peer review was my best example of that. I am happily learning to accept it, though, because I've genuinely wanted this dilemma my whole academic life.

The End of the Tech Store Saga

Well, my horribly sad story of attempting to connect with the cute tech store guy has reached a conclusion.

I went into the store for probably the 5th time. My excuse this time was to buy an additional lightning cable for my iPhone so I could charge my phone at school (who am I kidding...there is plenty of battery life to make it through the day). Regardless, I wandered around the store a bit in an attempt to act totally casual. I came so, so, so, so close to him ringing me up. Yet, I was forced to buy it from the other employee.

I paid $17 for a chance at a conversation that probably wouldn't have been worth $17. And it was only a CHANCE. I'm disappointed in myself, honestly. I had even made up a list of pros and cons when I was deciding whether to go into the store again or not. The cons drastically outweighed the pros, yet my feelings overrode my logic and ended up screwing me over.

Obviously, from now on I'm only entering the tech store if I actually need something tech-related in there. In a way though, I'm not obsessed anymore and that's definitely a good thing. Nobody has time to be obsessed.

Aside from that, college is going great but very busy. I'm already putting more effort into everything than I did in high school. Actually, the only thing I put a college-level amount of effort into in high school was AP biology. But that was because I just generally sucked at remembering biological things. Don't even ask me how the immune system works  (in reality I should know the answer to anything about it because I spent two weeks studying it...). Give me math any day.

I will try to update my blog here as often as possible, but for now, college comes first. I genuinely miss writing a post each week, and I have a list in reserve of lots of ideas for posts. Oh lame, rambling blog, I miss you. I will be back soon.

The Tech Store Saga

I'm going to discuss a story that has been developing for a year, and consistently has a tragic ending for each segment. Ready for a frustrating, disheartening tale of my painful attempt at flirting?

Episode 1: Scholar's Day
A year ago, I was here on campus as a prospective student who was invited on a designated day to see the very best of the university. As I was wandering around campus, there was a specific area of rows and rows of tables. Each table represented a club, fraternity, sorority, or on-campus resource. So, I strolled along the rows, just sort of looking but not seeing, not really wanting to have to interact with anyone. That was all well and good until I started down the final row. I accidentally made eye contact with the guy behind a table, and basically thought oh shit, now I'm going to have to talk to someone. I know, I know. That's a horrible thing to say. But I'm only being honest. I take a few steps in the opposite direction. "Hello."

My eyes travel back to the guy I had made eye contact with. Tall, dark wavy hair that was a little too long, classic hipster glasses, somewhat tired expression--he basically looks like a typical computer science major. "Hi," I reply, reluctantly walking over to the table.

"We're the Tech Store. We have all your tech needs," he says quietly.

"Okay," I say, nodding my head and desperately trying to think of something to say. Think. Come on, thinkkkkk.

"Yeahhhh," he says. Cue an awkward, three second pause during which neither of us really look at each other.

Say something. Say it now. Seriously, THINK OF SOMETHING.

"So, do you guys sell computers?" As soon as I said it, I hated myself. I blushed. It was probably the dumbest thing to ever say to someone who works at the TECHNOLOGY STORE.

"Yeah," he says, probably noting the stupid question, but probably also relieved the silence was broken. He rambles on about other things they do, but I wasn't listening. My cheeks were burning and I just wanted to run away.

"Okay, thanks," I reply warmly, moving away a little. "I'm just going to take some of this candy you have sitting out here." I grab a piece and start moving.

"Take more," he said.

"No, I'm good, thanks."

"No really, take more."

At this point, any normal person would take more candy. But you know what I said?

"No, I really shouldn't eat candy." And now I'm walking away as fast as possible.

What. The. Heck. Is. Wrong. With. Me. I'm not kidding when I say I replay that over and over sometimes during those nights I can't fall asleep. It's so awkward and painful to remember. Also, just note I was awkward only because I wasn't expecting to talk to anyone. I wasn't attracted to him or anything. Yet.

Episode #2: The Download
Fast forward 10 months. It's my first week of college, and I don't have a good version of Microsoft Office on my computer. So, I buy the download option from the tech store website. Yet, I don't receive the download link, and I'm instead told to pick it up in store. I'm 20 feet from the tech store, so I just decide to go ask what the deal is right now.

I walk in and approach the first employee. "Can I ask you something?" I say nicely, thinking about all the abrupt ways customers would ask me questions.

He looks up. He looks really familiar.

"Yes, you can," he says in a funny voice. I sense that was a joke, as if I weren't originally allowed to ask him something but now he's allowing me to. I press on with my question about the download link that is no where to be found, and if there's actually something I need to pick up in store.

"No," he says simply, cocking his head to the side and smiling. Pause. You're sort of supposed to elaborate I think.

"So...there's nothing I need to do here?" I say, trying to actually make sense of it all.

"Nope," he says. "But you could say 'hi'." He smiles slightly and is giving me alarmingly intense eye contact.

My stomach twists. Don't blush don't blush don't blush. I laugh. "Hi," I reply.

"Hi." We both just sort of look at each other. I can't stand it, and I still haven't gotten a decent answer. I was also thinking that if I had ever acted like this with a customer, I would have been told to never do it again as I would be unprofessional and not representing the company well and blah blah blah. But, college retail is apparently very different.

"So, I'll get the link by email?"

"Yes, we just haven't updated our description on the website. That's why you're confused. It will come in a day or two," he replies, this time acting like a normal retail employee. At last, my question is answered.

"Okay, thank you," I reply.

"No problem...and I can help you with something else if you need," he offers sincerely.

"No...no, I'm good for now."

"Are you sure?" he asks playfully, pretending to be very serious about it. I laugh and say I'm sure, and leave.

A few minutes later, I realized that was the same guy I had talked to on Scholar's Day. But he had gotten way, way more attractive. He had cut his hair. He still looked like a nerd, but in this case, the nerd look was very nice.

Obviously, after that kind of conversation, I'm going to think about it. It was strange to me, yet enjoyable. Of course I would try to talk to him again.

Episode #3: Buying a Flash Drive I Didn't Really Need
A few days later, I'm sitting outside the tech store. I see him and really want to talk to him, but something is holding me back. After a while of feeling horrible and distant, I say "screw it" and gather up my stuff. I'm going in.

He sitting at the front, untangling a cord. He doesn't even look up. I pretend to be looking for a flash drive, and am approached by another employee who recommends one. I take it and walk around the store, just trying to buy time...just trying to think of a way I can say something to him without being blatantly obvious. But I can't. And he seems so preoccupied. I buy the flash drive from the other employee and leave. Cute nerdy guy ignored me the whole time. Disappointing day. I resolve to give up any attempt  at talking to him, because he's obviously not interested.

Episode #4: Waiting Is Never a Good Idea

Today, I was sitting outside the tech store. Part of me wanted to go in and try again, and part of me didn't. And part of me told me that I should really be doing my calculus homework. So I just sat for an hour, stealing glances at him occasionally. After a while, when the tech store was pretty empty of people, I decided to just screw it again and go in, this time with the excuse of looking for an extra lightening cable for my iPhone.

He was standing right at the entrance. I walk in. We make eye contact, and I say hi quietly, moving to the back of the store where the cables are, because unfortunately, I do need to act like I'm there for a reason. And then, he leaves.

I should have known. He had his backpack and everything, and I waited just a little too long. Damn it. Damnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn it. I leave, feeling horrible, yet AGAIN.

This is where the story ends for now. Tragic, right? Why do I keep trying? Why can't I just forget about it and move on?

Regardless, I have told myself I will go in tomorrow after classes and try one more time. I'm going to give my absolute best effort to converse with him. If it doesn't work, fine. At least I have that consolation. If it works, then I have THAT consolation. But I am tired of this frustration, and I want it resolved.

Stay tuned for the final update.

First Week At College Wrap-Up

Week one/I have no idea how many weeks there are in a college degree has come to a close. And let me tell you, it has been an interesting experience. Let's give the play-by-play, day-by-day (that was so clever, right?).

Monday
- I was feeling tremendously nervous. I only had two classes to get to today, but before they even began, I was worried over how rusty and stupid I felt after 3 months of doing not much at all.
- The day began with a stressful car ride in rush hour traffic into the sun. Uggh.
- My first class was my math lab, and it wasn't too bad, aside from not being able to understand the TA half the time.
- My next class was programming fundamentals, which I was insanely worried about because my history with coding has not been a pleasant one. Nevertheless, my worries mostly vanished as I think I have the best professor teaching the course.
- With no homework assigned, I literally had nothing to do all day except eat lunch and spend 2 hours in the student union overlooking some lame games of pool and ping pong.

Tuesday
- Went to my first math lecture, and it turns out I had learned everything in it from my test prep books in high school. Funny.
- Finally managed to make a friend in my intro to engineering and computer science class.
- Discovered the library and did math homework.
- Spent too much money on too much campus food and felt sick for the rest of the day.

Wednesday
- Spent most of the day in the library when I wasn't in class.
- Attempted to go to some events to get free food; promptly left when I saw the line for very tiny root beer floats was about 1/4 mile.
- Bought too much food again and zoned out watching more lame ping pong games.

Thursday
- Went to my classes again; got lost on the way to two of them. Only a freshman gets lost on the second day and not on the first.
- Happily discovered that I had already done my first project I received in my intro to engineering class a year ago.
- Ate lunch with a friend.
- Wrote an inspirational thing about Steve Jobs for a class.
- Talked with the cute guy at the tech store.
- Was asked to the silent disco; had to refuse because carpooling sucks. ):

Friday
- NO CLASSES!!!!!!!!1!!

Not a bad first week, huh? It was basically like my typical week during high school except with better food, more to do, and cooler people. I will say that one thing I like about college so far is the anonymity; almost nobody knows who I am, and that is incredibly refreshing. At my high school, everyone knew who I was, and most people weren't particularly warm to me because of that (I was a good student and I was disliked for that). But so far college has been a nice, perhaps slightly nerve-wracking, transition. Anyway, time to get to class; check back next week for more of my super interesting freshman experiences.

Fresh Goals

Well, my first day of college is here. Here, as in, today. Like, right now.

I've thought about this day for many years. I've envisioned this day occurring on at least 10 different campuses. I've imagined feeling about 20 different emotions. But above all, I envisioned how amazing it would feel to have high school finally behind me.

Today feels very different from how I imagined, as I suppose most things do. Yes, it's nice knowing I'm not going back to a place I hate, but oddly, it feels barely relevant now. Honestly, I really haven't thought about high school since before I graduated. Instead, I feel pretty neutral, with a big pinch of anxiety.

It's a little disappointing to me to not feel some sort of extreme excitement like so many of my friends and other college freshmen do. My problem is petty--this is not the exact situation I wanted, and I haven't gotten completely over it, even four months later. I know. I need to grow up and accept life's unfortunate twists. But for some reason, I can't accept this one. Not just yet.

Regardless, I've got some things I want to accomplish this year, and I might as well share them to see if I actually do fulfill all of them by May 2015.

- Make new friends
- Volunteer more
- Try new sports
- Get involved in a club or two
- Keep a solid GPA
- Attempt to get an internship for the summer
- Have more fun
- Create great experiences

Basically, my ultimate goal this year is to still remain serious about my education, but also be serious about enjoying life (I realize that's an oxymoron). One of my favorite quotes right now is: "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live," said by Albus Dumbledore in the Harry Potter series. That's what I want this year to be like. I spent the latter half of high school so focused on dreams that I forced myself to not truly live, and in the end, the dreams just crushed me anyway, and I wished I had just had more fun. I don't want to be miserable again, and that's why I'm glad college is here. College seems to offer many opportunities for fun, and I plan to take advantage of that, for sure. In moderation, of course.

So, here we go. Wish me luck. Or rather, wish me fun.

Summer 2014 Review

This has been the first summer in two years that has actually been a proper "summer break". Last summer, I was in summer school. The year before that, I was training 20 hours a week and taking SAT practice tests in my spare time. Lame, right?

So, approaching this summer break, I knew I wanted to go all out and do everything I've been wanting to do for two years in just three months. To give you an idea of how utterly desperate I was for a break, I starting planning summer break activities probably back in October of last year. Anyway, here are the things I did, in order, ranked from most fun to less fun, but still fun. 

1. Read the Harry Potter series

This is no joke the most fun thing I've at least done in a very long time. Before reading the books, I had the common preconceived notion about Harry Potter books: they were about magic and witches and wizards, and all of that was odd and probably something I would never care about. But it turns out that the magic is just "there" as a medium of sorts to convey the actual underlying story, which is not really about magic at all. I don't think I've ever read a book series that captivated me as wholeheartedly as this one did. Heck, I even bought Harry Potter clothes. Take that, The Hunger Games (disclaimer: I still really like The Hunger Games; it's just not as good as Harry Potter). 

2. Watch every movie I've wanted to watch for two years

Two years is a long time to virtually go without seeing any movies. Therefore, I had a ridiculously long list of movies I wanted to watch, and I'm both proud and a little ashamed that I've been able to watch all 30 or so movies. They ranged from all of the Harry Potter movies (of course) to practically all of the Oscar-nominated films this year, as well as as some old classics, such as Titanic (my new favorite movie) and The Matrix. 

3. Buy new clothes

These days, I sometimes take a look at my closet and realize that at least a fourth of the clothes in there were not there before the summer started. In a good way, I was too busy to go shopping during the school year. But this summer has been a prime opportunity to support the economy through my impulsiveness. Working at the mall didn't really helped my bank account, but then again, I would not have been able to take advantage of all the sales and amazing deals I got on clothes if I hadn't been there almost every day. Also, ironically enough, I found most of the clothes in the store I worked in to be completely unappealing, yet I managed to still spend quite a bit of money there on stuff I did like. Anyway, I try to make myself feel better about it all with the fact that I honestly don't feel like shopping much at all--or at least, not for a while. Give me a few months.

4. Spending days doing absolutely nothing

When summer break began and I occasionally spent days doing nothing at all, I really beat myself up over it. Basically, I was so used to always needing to be productive that I didn't want to let myself relax. I'm still sort of like that, but I've really enjoyed the days that I didn't really do anything at all. It is an excellent way to recharge.

5. Working

Like I said, I'm the kind of person who always needs something to do because I hate boredom. Working about 15 hours per week gave me something to do, while at the same time giving me nothing to do for a lot of the time (does that even make sense?). While the job was very stressful sometimes, other times it was a lot of fun, and that was mostly because of the customers and my coworkers. I think I will genuinely miss going off to work and feeling like I'm making a small contribution to the world.

I would give this summer 9 stars out of 10. My only complaint is that I didn't do absolutely everything I wanted to do, but then again, when does anyone ever do that?

Resignation Thoughts

At the start of this year, I had a goal. Well, I had many, but this was a new one: get a retail job after I graduate, learn something new from it, and try to make some spending money for college.

I had it all planned out in my head: I'd apply to my favorite clothing store, brush up my resume, and they'd take me faster than I could snap my fingers. How hard could it possibly be to get a job in retail? People are always leaving their retail jobs anyway; can't be that bad.

I was so laughably wrong.

I spent the last remaining 3 months of school working on job applications. Waking up early on Saturday and Sunday, I slaved through probably 15 different applications, answering all the repetitive basic questions over and over again, taking numerous assessment tests that each usually took at least an hour to complete, and only getting more frustrated. Weeks went by before I got my first call back. And it was only to hear that because I didn't want to work very long term, I was no longer a candidate for the position.

Moderately discouraged, I kept working on those applications. Went to an interview; got rejected that night. Rejected from another place. And another. And another. I think I'll always think of those months purely as "rejection months" as I was rejected from colleges and jobs alike. A truly difficult combination to stomach.

Now I was getting desperate. I was running out of stores I could think of, and I didn't want to fall back on coaching gymnastics classes. Finally, I got a call from a store I had applied to a while ago and forgotten about. I had a basic phone interview right then, and I was invited to come in for a real interview. I was hopeful, because this was looking like my best shot. Funny enough, the interview was on my last day of high school. To me, that's somewhat symbolic as an immediate transition into the "real world".

The interview was my best yet, and I was thoroughly excited to be contacted a few days later with a job offer. I accepted, and I've been working it ever since.

It's important to emphasize that I didn't really want this job for the money, because honestly, it's been somewhat negligible. Instead, I wanted to learn something new this summer, and there's no question that I have. As I resigned last week due to my upcoming class schedule and some other complications, I wanted to list some skills I've learned from working in retail.

1. Communication
Undoubtedly, the single greatest thing I learned this summer has been much better communication skills. I went from being the mildly shy, nervous girl who dreaded saying "Hi, how are you?" to customers to the girl who can deal with incredibly confusing, demanding, or somewhat unkind customers while keeping a smile on her face. Also, customers come in often saying one thing while actually meaning something completely different, and learning to translate that has proved very useful. Genuinely, I'm proud. This job broke me out of my shell very well, and this is a skill I'm going to carry with me for the rest of my life.

2. How to be a better customer
As someone who has experienced all kinds of customers, I understand the impact that being a good customer can make on retail employees. My second day on the job, I nervously asked a lady how she was doing, and she replied with "Oh, I'm fine. The real question is, how are you?" I was quite taken aback by this but it made my day so much better. Customers ask how I'm doing about 50% the time, and I still find it really nice to not just be treated as someone in the background. Anyway, asking employees how they're doing is just one way to be a better customer; other ways include not leaving the fitting rooms in a mess, trying not to mess up displays too much, and just being kind. It will all go a long way, I assure you.

3. How to fold clothes REALLY WELL
My folding skills before I started working were pretty darn mediocre. But now, after folding probably thousands of shirts and sweaters and pants, I have to say I am a pretty badass folder. There's nothing I can't fold. My closet and drawers are noticeably improved, too.

4. How to cope with very, very old technology
I'm going to make an extreme generalization: retail is extremely behind in technology. For example, the POS software on the store's registers is at least 5 years old, there are numerous flaws in the program, and the "touch screens" don't respond well to pressure, just to name a few. It usually takes about a month to train a brand new employee in retail, but 2 of those weeks could be easily eliminated with more intuitive software in the registers better integrated with company systems. There is so much time wasted fumbling with unnecessarily problematic technology that could be used to interact with customers and promote more sales. These experiences have motivated me even more to pursue engineering, because the retail industry could definitely use an overhaul, and fast.

5. How to stand in heels for 4 to 6 hours at a time
While this is perhaps the least useful thing I've learned, it's been great for endurance purposes. The first few weeks on the job, my feet hurt so badly that when I got home, all I could do was lie in bed and wish someone could massage my aching feet. The day before I graduated, I wore new shoes that cut up my heels so badly that there was actually blood involved. You can imagine the agony I was trying to hide as I walked across stage next day. Uggh. Anyway now I barely feel the pain, thank god.

So, as my last day approaches in just over a week, I'm grateful. I've learned so much that has greatly benefited me already. Perhaps this hasn't been my dream job, but it's been a great experience to learn from and motivate me to pursue what I'm truly passionate about in the future.

Doubt

Last November, I was on the phone with my dad. We were talking about college, which was the norm for like 5 months straight. Uggh.

Anyway he started talking about how he believed I could get into Harvard with a full scholarship. I had heard this statement so many times before and normally felt mildly annoyed by it. Me, Harvard material? Full ride? You've got to be kidding me. But this time, something hit me.

I realized he genuinely believed what he was saying. He was telling me that he had so much faith in me that he thought I could get into an extremely selective school and get an even sweeter deal because Harvard would want me me so badly that they wanted to pay my way to study there. He thought I was that good.

It's so rare for people to have that much faith in you. He had more faith in me than I had in myself, and that meant so much.

I'm undoubtedly pretty hard on myself. I guess it's just another attribute I learned in gymnastics. I'm not satisfied with most things until I've done my absolute best. Even then, I'll be thinking about ways I could have done it better. Perfectionist? Somewhat.

The problem with being like that is that you tend to doubt yourself regularly. Every time you think you don't do something well enough, doubt creeps into your head, telling you that perhaps you're just not good enough for anything. In gymnastics, when you doubt yourself, you get injured. Badly. It's no different in life, really. Doubting prevents you from trying, which prevents you from learning, which prevents you from growing, which further prevents you from living. This is summed up well in one of my favorite quotes: "Doubt kills more dreams than failure ever will."

Although what my dad believed would happen didn't even come close to happening, it was the one of the most comforting encouragements I've ever received. I don't think I'll ever fully believe what he did about me, but the main thing is that someone else believed in me more than I did myself. And funny enough, the thought of that single thought makes me doubt myself just a little less.

Sometimes, It All Truly Feels Worth It

My year so far could be viewed by an outsider as a year of disappointments. For example, I got rejected from the colleges I had been dreaming of attending for at least 2 years after spending hours and hours agonizing over applications. Sometimes, it has been truly challenging at times to keep an optimistic attitude.

Everything got worse as my AP exams approached. For those not familiar AP exams, they are basically the exams that test your knowledge over advanced courses you took in high school. These courses are the equivalent of entry-level college courses.

Everybody complains about AP courses. "They're hard." "They have a lot of homework." I took my first AP courses this year, quite a bit later than average because the opportunities were not previously available to me. I took calculus and biology. I didn't really know what to expect going into them except that I knew I'd have to work hard. And let me tell you, it was a ride.

Biology was the more difficult subject. Freshman biology didn't come especially easily to me, so it was even more of a struggle to understand the material (and the hundreds of new ideas) at a much more advanced level. I have more of an analytic, engineering mind that prefers numbers any day over how biology presents itself. At the beginning of the school year, I spent no fewer than 20 hours a week slaving over just biology chapters, activities, videos, prep books, and notes, ensuring I understood every word as much as possible. It was hell, but I managed to stay afloat.

Calculus came a lot easier. Sometimes in life, you just "get" things. That's how calculus was for me, mostly. I did doubt myself for a while when we got into physical applications of integrals, but it got more natural after a while. I enjoyed the thought process that required connecting different ideas together. It's not like I'd go bounding into every calculus class excited for what I was going to learn that day, but sometimes my teacher would be teaching a new lesson, and I'd just be sitting there thinking this is absolutely incredible. Anyway, enough of that. If you read my blog, then you'll know I already like math.

As the AP exams approached at the end of the school year, my stress levels reached peak heights. I didn't really realize it at the time, but looking back, I felt completely horrible. I was concerned over these exams not because they would help me get into college (or not...), but rather because I could get some college course credit if I got high enough scores on them. So I pushed myself. And I mean, I really pushed myself to my breaking point.   I suppose that's a benefit of being a gymnast; you realize your breaking point is much farther than you think it is. Part of the reason I quit gymnastics at the time was to focus more on studying for these exams. But just before then, I had an extremely emotional breakdown in the gym. I'll admit, it was mostly these exams and the disappointment of school and all sorts of anxieties that resulted in a very low tolerance level for me (believe me, I can take a lot of crap before it rattles me). So when someone was unfair toward me, I was crying so hard publicly and I didn't even care because it just felt good to not pretend to have everything together for a few minutes. I am a flawed individual and I am not ashamed to admit it.

So fast forward a bit and I took the AP exams. The calculus one was my first and most of it went very well, except for the more difficult part of it where you have to prove your answers. I messed up a few problems and only managed to remember how to solve a few of them with only 2 minutes left on the clock, so you can imagine I was writing and erasing about as madly as a seasoned mathematician would. The biology one was thoroughly disappointing, and I walked out feeling rotten about it, but feeling good that it was over. And I took a real breath for the first time in a long time. Then I started worrying about scores.

Well, I got my scores just this weekend. And guess what?! I got a 5 (highest score) on my calculus exam and a 3 (qualified score) on my biology exam. I shrieked. I was so incredibly happy! I had sacrificed hours and hours for these exams, and it finally felt like, for once, this sacrifice was completely worth it. I had doubted myself considerably, and it felt very comforting to know that I didn't do as poorly as I thought I had (another common attribute of gymnasts...thinking you're not as capable as you actually are).

Disappointments suck. But the truth is, they will always exist. The critical thing is to never let them stop you from keep trying and pushing and dreaming. Perhaps you'll feel like I did and just think your life is 80% disappointments, but honestly, it's how you perceive it. Some disappointments are easier to get over than others, but don't let disappointment equal discouragement. For the longest time, I asked myself and others if anything ever felt wholly, completely, entirely worth it. Basically, do the ends ever truly justify the means?And now, I have answered my own question. The ends do not always seem to justify the means. But when they do, you'll feel it. It will encourage you to create more means to lead to more satisfying ends. After all, perseverance is really not the result of achievement, but rather disappointments and failures.

Abby

On a sweltering summer day in July 2009, I got in the car with sporadic air conditioning for a fairly long road trip. It was freaking 104 degrees or so outside. Did I mention it was hot? But today, I barely felt the heat. Instead, I felt the joy of getting a new dog.

The only other family dog we had had was a mixed breed that we affectionately called Frankie. Frankie was a spunky, homogeneously reddish-brown dog with only the tips of her paws a different color, a shade of off white. Frankie was the family dog since before I was born up until I was 9 or 10. She got into so much trouble. But she was so incredibly lovable and definitely returned the love she received. Then, she began to have seizures and her health declined very quickly. It was so painful to watch her in pain, confusion, and probably knowing that her life was near the end. The decision was made to put her to sleep to allow her to escape her misery, although the misery only intensified for me even after that dreadful day.

I loved Frankie so much that it genuinely felt like I had been shot a couple of times when she left this world. As is the case with anyone you love, really.

Needless to say, it took quite a few years to recover from losing her. She was the only dog I ever really knew, and my family really felt the loss as well. 

But on that smoking hot day in July, the decision had already been made that it was time to start again. We were to meet at a bookstore. The dog we had picked out was a 3 or 4 year old German Shepherd named Greta (German dog, German name). She was currently part of a German Shepherd rescue group which consisted of 25 other dogs living on a farm out in the country somewhere. Greta had been horribly abused as a puppy, and to make matters worse, while she was acclimating to life on the rescue farm, she was attacked by a Rottweiler who ripped off her right ear. The ear was surgically reattached, but her negative outlook toward most people and other dogs could never be repaired.

Perhaps many potential dog owners would be worried about adopting a dog with so many issues. But I knew she was perfect from just reading her own little biography on the web page. It said adorable things like "she enjoys sitting on the couch watching tv" and "dunking her head underwater", but I think I just inherently knew she was the right dog.

That first moment I saw Greta walk up, sniffing along the grass outside and briskly wagging her tail, I fell in love. Excitation was an understatement. We met up with her and the rescue worker, and discussed a few things. I petted Greta for the first time, but she acted like she didn't even notice. Probably typical for new dogs, I thought. 

Soon after we brought her home. Veryyyy comfortable.

So, Greta was brought home. Also, her name was promptly changed to "Abby" because my mom thought it fit her and because that was the real name of the German Shepherd who starred in I Am Legend. For three days, Abby nervously wandered around the house, test driving out different corners and spaces. She was incredibly skittish and afraid, and it only made matters worse when we tried to pet her or acknowledge her. She spent two entire days outside panting profusely in the heat. I was genuinely concerned that she would never want to come inside or like her new family. But she seemed to be more comfortable alone, so we let it be.

On the third day, I brought a bowl of water out to her. She saw me and thumped her tail twice. Those subtle thumps of acknowledgement made me so happy because I knew that we would get along after all. What a relief!

Two weeks later, she acted like she had lived in this house forever. Abby ran the show. She began barking at delivery guys and people and dogs who walked by the house. She greeted us whenever we came downstairs in the morning. In return, I spent hours brushing her matted fur and meticulously picking ticks off of her and depositing them into a jar filled with alcohol, vinegar, and basically the strongest chemicals we had in the house. Gosh, she was a mess. Not to mention, ticks are wholly disgusting. She was also drastically underweight, so she was fed like a queen for a very, very long time. Eventually, she gained 20 pounds. Now she is a sturdy 64 pounds.

That was five years ago, but honestly it felt like yesterday. Today, Abby is 8 or 9 years old and still thinks she is in charge of everyone. She continues to bark at just about everyone, but in reality she is the sweetest animal to have ever existed. The memories I've made with her--such as when she walked straight into a sprinkler or walked into a stop sign (I still think that is the most ironic thing ever)--are truly some of the best experiences I've ever had. Also, anyone who has ever had a dog will know what I mean when I say that it is so crazy amazing that an animal can you love you so much. She's happy when I am. She senses when something is wrong. She cries when I do and is always there to give me a reassuring lick. As the saying goes, anyone who says diamonds are a girl's best friend never had a dog.

Role Model Roles

I've mentioned this a little before, but I was the highest level artistic gymnast at my gym. What does that mean? There were hundreds of little girls (and boys) looking up to me and watching my every move. Usually, I wasn't even aware of it. But they were definitely analyzing everything I did.

I didn't realize I was some sort of celebrity in the gym until I was 14. I noticed that sometimes when I finished a skill, I would see a child who had obviously been watching me stopped in his or her tracks and just staring. It was simultaneously a warm and strange feeling knowing that someone thought what I was doing was cool enough to stop whatever he or she was doing. It was also something of necessary positive reaction I needed on lethargic and dreary days (and there were manyyyyyyyyy of those days). 

As the years passed by and I rose in the levels, these occurrences happened more and more often. Daily. A couple of times per day. Most gymnasts at my level wouldn't really care at that point, but I did. Because it reminded me that at least one child looked up to me. And I took my role seriously.

When I first arrived at my gym, the "role models" I had were anything but. Sure, they were a few levels above me, but they only wanted to work on the skills they liked. They also weren't particularly receiving to younger gymnastics like me. 

I knew that I didn't ever want to be like that to any of the younger gymnasts. For that reason, I was kind to everyone. I made sure to always try my hardest on everything I did. On the most exhausting days which made me question why I didn't choose an easier sport, I pushed myself to appear mentally present. I tried my best to not complain about doing skills I didn't want to. When it came to conditioning, usually the area that everyone hates, I kept silent and did everything I was told to do without complaining. I consistently kept a positive attitude, and encouraged others often. When it came to topics outside of gymnastics, I further encouraged kids in their school life and future dreams. I ensured that they knew I studied and worked hard in school, and that they should too.

I can tell you that it took a tremendous amount of effort to do all of that. Every. Single. Day. It was immensely important to me though, because I knew that no matter what, I was looked up to by quite a few young children. And the influence of a role model at a young age is often beyond comprehension, so it needs to be a pretty darn good influence.

So I did this for years and years. It didn't really hit me how much I had impacted these kids until I had quit gymnastics. They had made me a card and wrote messages in it that absolutely melted my heart. 

"You have made such an impact on my life."

"You have been such a great friend to me."

"You've been really nice to me since 2009."

Quitting gymnastics didn't directly make me cry, but those words did. Then came the final blow.

I was at my team's annual banquet a few weeks ago. A girl who I had been particularly close to was leaving, and her dad lingered behind and tapped me on the shoulder. "I just wanted to tell you that she really looks up to you," he said earnestly. "Thank you for being such a great leader."

I could have died happy right then and there. That was exactly who I wanted to be, and I had achieved it. Those few words were confirmation that I had done something right, at least for one girl. All of those difficult actions I had instigated on myself felt so incredibly worth it.

I would encourage anyone to always act as positively and wisely as possible in everything you do. Even if you don't necessarily think anyone is caring about what you're doing, you never know who is quietly looking up to you. You never know what kind of dream you're inspiring in others, and sometimes, unwittingly, you are a key part of the equation of keeping that dream alive. 

Not Fitting In

"But I realized A players like working with other A players; they just don't like working with C players." - Steve Jobs

Even though that quote sounds mildly arrogant, it is true. I don't believe that I am necessarily an A player. But I feel that statement on a deep level.

All my life I have struggled to fit in. I have always struggled to fit the molds that accompany different social situations and activities. Preschool - didn't fit it. Dance - didn't fit in. High school - didn't fit in. And now, a new addition: my job - not fitting in.

All of these things have something in common: I have felt and feel largely uninspired when doing them. Boredom and frustration lead me to just seeing the task differently than everyone else. Perhaps I could chalk it all up to that and feel better. But I don't.

Is there something wrong with me? Am I too nice? Am I too shy or quiet? Is my sense of humor weird? Do people just not like me? Those are the questions that bother me whenever I get this unsettling feeling of being the odd one out, the black sheep, the ugly duckling, and so on. And it is one of the biggest hurdles for me to block out these questions and focus on moving past them and start trying to get more interested in whatever I'm doing. This has never worked though, and usually whatever it was that I didn't fit into is over pretty soon.

However, when I fit into something, I can feel it immediately. Gymnastics, certain friends throughout my life, engineering activities, physics, volunteering at the animal shelter--these are all things that I have connected very, very well with. I can feel it on an equally deep level as I do when I don't fit in. Except, they make me truly happy. They stimulate me by inspiring passion and thought. Creativity and ingenuity. A profound intellectual satisfaction.

Some people seem to have a knack for fitting into almost all the little social molds. They always know the right thing to say and do in a wide variety of situations. They can enjoy doing the extremely repetitive. And I truly envy them for their flawless social navigation.

But I realize that I am not like that. I'm mildly awkward so I can't deal with people "the correct way" sometimes. I rarely know the right thing to say. I am also a firm believer in repetition being the death of an individual, as I experienced in gymnastics.

I suppose I generally just fit better into other kinds of molds. The molds that promote a heck of a lot of thinking and problem solving. Perhaps that's just who I am by nature, and I just need to accept that. But it's so hard to when you feel so different from almost everyone you meet, and you're not really proud of it.

That is actually the main reason I am so looking forward to college and praying that I will find my place to belong there. I am wishing so badly that I can finally feel like I fit in. Last summer, I went to some engineering summer camps, and I have never felt like I connected with everyone around me as well as I did then in my whole life. I was surrounded by people my age who had the same interests and dreams as I did, and because of that, I felt like I was definitely in the right place just for a precious moment in time.

I suppose everyone is not going to fit into something, but it just seems like practically everything new I do feels wrong. It is an extremely difficult feeling to stomach over and over again. You definitely know when you don't share other people's attitudes and you know it affects a lot of things. I see a lot of quotes encouraging us to "stand alone in the crowd" and it's okay to not fit in because "you are your own unique self" and blah blah blah. Here's the truth: it hurts to not fit in. It hurts more recognizing that you don't fit in, and will never fit into what you're doing currently. It hurts that you are trapped in this thing for some time, and that this is yet another example of why you almost never fit into anything.

I am actually dreaming of the day that I can go to a job I love every day and 100%, completely, wholly, truly, happily fit in. Until that day, there will probably be a lot more misses, and the only things that are going to keep me going are the few things I do fit into and that sacred day I dream of. After all, the quality of my life depends on this dream being a reality.

Life Advice: Don't Sell Your Childhood

It's not Monday, but I felt this post was necessary. Necessary for me to feel better.

One of my most-used "toys" as a child was my coral pink Nintendo DS Lite. Ahhhh throwback to 2006, right? I had that puppy since I was about 11 years old. I remember excitedly going to GameStop after saving for weeks (my weekly salary was a whopping $3) and proudly telling the the associate at the counter that I wanted the pink DS Lite behind her. I felt loaded with cash and on top of the world. Well, the cash was gone pretty fast, but that on top of the world feeling didn't leave so fast.

I brought it home and set up my PictoChat name and message. I clicked in my first game, Animal Crossing: Wild World, and began my new virtual life. That game would be played for a couple hours per day, every day, for about 3 years straight. The virtual life was my life.

By the way, if you're an Animal Crossing fan, I caught every fish, insect, and fossil. I also had millions of Bells and the most expensive furniture and Gracie clothes and...you get the idea. I had it all, as I should if I spent almost every waking hour with the game. Okay, bragging over.

My DS Lite went everywhere. To gymnastics meets. To gym sleepovers. To normal sleepovers. To the doctor's office. To the 6 hour car trips. My friends usually had one too, and we would all giddily send weird drawings and one-word handwritten messages to each other over PictoChat. At one sleepover, we were supposed to be sleeping, but really we were all under our sleeping bags communicating with our DS Lites. Little did we know that the bright lights were not completely blocked out by our cheap sleeping bags, as we soon realized as my friend's parents walked in and confiscated them all from us and firmly ordered us to sleep "for real". We were all experiencing that crappy feeling you get after getting in trouble, but it was so much fun thinking we were so badass for communicating with our little gaming devices.

My brother also had a DS Lite, so you can imagine how much we played together. We would even talk over PictoChat after we were tucked in at night. Our code was for one of us to cough really loudly so that the other could hear it through the walls between our rooms, and we would both turn on our DS Lites and send messages and bad drawings to each other. I don't even know what we talked about. It doesn't matter though, because those risky times were the best.

Well a couple of years went by, and eventually the DS had to be set aside with the incoming homework torpedo that accompanied high school. It sat quietly in the top drawer in my closet. Just waiting patiently to be played with again. My Animal Crossing town was probably overflowing with weeds.

Then, one day a few months ago, I opened the drawer. I got my DS out just for kicks, just to selfishly relive my childhood a little. I felt almost nothing. None of that joy and anticipation I had for years every time I eagerly slid the power button upwards. I only smiled a little, thinking about those glory days, but that was about it.

So the only logical solution to me was to sell it. Because I wasn't using it, right? I mean, it had been sitting in a drawer untouched for years. Also, I'm 18 years old, going to college, I was probably never going to play any games on it again, and I might as well make some cash on it.

So yesterday I got the DS Lite ready to sell. I erased my PictoChat name and custom settings. I spent a painful 20 minutes hovering over the "Erase Town Data" button on Animal Crossing, but eventually did it. I put everything it its original box and headed off to GameStop. I knew exactly what I was doing. I was feeling a little sad about selling it, but I kept telling myself I didn't need it. I didn't use it. It didn't matter.

I dumped everything out on the GameStop counter and the associate tiredly tested everything. He fumbled around with it, trying to find the power button. "It's on the right side, and you need to slide it upwards," I quickly said, as I realized how much I knew that console inside and out. It was taking quite a while for him to check it all, and with every passing second, I began to feel worse and worse. Another customer walked in asking for help, and I stepped aside for a second. I took an absent-minded glance at the counter with my DS and games strewn all over it, and suddenly it hit me: that was really my childhood on my counter. All the memories and emotions flooded back to me in that moment, and my heart wanted to passionately yell "NEVER MIND I DON'T WANT TO SELL THESE" and run out and play some Animal Crossing. But I realized how pathetic it would look for me to say I wanted them back, so I bit my lip. I felt so weak. I felt so powerless. I felt like I was in the process of losing some of my life, and it was too late to turn back now. The associate handed me the relatively small amount of cash, and I walked out. Feeling horrible.

I still don't feel that great. Really, I shouldn't feel so sad about selling an obsolete gaming system and games. But that's not what they were. They were years and years of fun. Of laughter and good times. They were essentially a few precious years of my childhood disguised as kid's games and an old device. And I sold that.

Here's the moral of the story: don't sell anything that played a major positive role in your childhood for any amount of money or any reason. No matter how much you need cash, no matter how little you use it. Your heart is always going to tell you to not do it, and don't let your mental discipline tell you otherwise, because your mental discipline is really untrustworthy sometimes. Nostalgia is truly a matter of the heart, and it deserves to be carefully listened to.

Lack of Inspiration

So I've been faithfully trying to come up with a great idea for a post for about 3 weeks now. And I've still got nothing. My only explanation for this is just a general lack of inspiration. Perhaps this is the infamous writer's block at work.

So what's this post going to be about if I have no ideas for a post? A discussion about possible explanations for this situation. Just kidding. I'm going to ramble.

I think I can safely say that I have been quite busy recently. Well, I wasn't for that one week after I finished school where I had nothing to do except lie around the house and aimlessly stare at the walls. And in a way, that did feel really nice. I've never had such minimal stress in my life. After being in school for 2 years straight and having almost no time to relax, it was comforting to know that it was perfectly okay to do nothing. Except, it got boring really fast.

I'm the kind of person who always needs something to do or else I get really restless. So I was really amping up my job searching at this point. And then I got offered a job. And that's basically all I've been doing ever since.

So how's my job? It's pretty good. I'm a lowly sales associate at a somewhat popular retail store. Learning the ropes was very painful at first. For example, associates have to be able to physically CTRL-F the store for certain clothes with certain 7 digit codes on them. In other words, you have to know where absolutely everything is at all times. It's a lot more difficult than you'd think to learn that skill. I've gotten pretty good at it as I've frantically wandered the store for ages just to put one piece of clothing back.

Also my people skills have already improved dramatically. You get used to saying "Hi, how are you?" to people and them not responding. Over and over again. Eventually it doesn't even make a dent in you.

I made my first sale at the register the other day without screwing up. Yayyyyyy. It only took about 30 sales for nothing to go wrong. I consider myself pretty good at learning new technology, but the software in the registers is extremely confusing and outdated. I'm sure it would be very, very costly to instill a massive update in all the registers, but it could easily take 2 weeks out of associates' training if it was made to be more intuitive and less complicated.

Well, that's all I've got for now. I half promise I'll be back next week with something marginally better. At least.

Graduating

I apologize for the untimeliness of this post; I was a little busy graduating yesterday.

This week, I thought I'd discuss the ceremony and some thoughts about graduating and my high school school experience. Don't worry--I'm not going to go through a play-by-play of the ceremony, because that would be incredibly boring.

I always thought the day I would graduate would be glorious and I'd be filled with tears of joy for an entire 24 hours. Last year, when I watched the seniors of my school at their graduation, I did want to cry. Cry because I was happy for them. Cry because that was something I wanted so badly, and that it would be a rough year away.

I didn't cry yesterday though. I didn't even really come close. You know why? Because I was instead filled with complete joy. Raw and whole-hearted joy.

There was no better feeling than standing across the stage and looking into my parents' eyes. Just seeing in their eyes everything they had sacrificed for me to be able to graduate at that moment. Everything they could have had, they set aside for me. I thought about all of our shared disappointments and uplifts. Our trials and tribulations. And all I could think was I have never been happier in my life.

Some of my classmates walked across the stage as if it was a right to receive their diploma. A right for their parents to work so hard to help them through school. A right to an education. But I didn't. I knew everything my parents had dreamed of for me and worked so hard to achieve. I knew that millions of people all around the world would give anything to receive this level of education. I knew that this was a privilege, not a right. It was an honor. It was a dream and an expectation fulfilled. And for that, I was truly grateful.

As a result, I walked across the stage in front of 2,000 people with the biggest, genuine smile on my face. I didn't worry about tripping. I didn't worry about embarrassing myself. I didn't think about anything except being in that moment, because there is probably no drug that could produce that kind of high I experienced for those 2 minutes.

At the end of the presentation of diplomas, my classmates and I walked out of the auditorium before anyone else. And again, I couldn't stop smiling among the cheers and clapping. I felt I had left an enormous load off my mind back at that stage. It felt like pure happiness was just radiating out of me. As soon as we all got out of everyone's line of vision, we had our own celebration of high fives and cheers and running and jumping.

My friends, relatives, teachers, coaches, and everyone in between came to see me and wish me congratulations and tell me they were proud of me, etc. Some of my fellow graduates whom I had never had the chance to speak to before congratulated me as well and wished me good luck. And suddenly, I realized that there were many important words unsaid and possible great friendships and experiences that could have happened, but that didn't. And that is my only regret regarding high school, because some of those people I finally had the chance to talk to and have a nice conversation with yesterday could have been been very good friends.

If only I had spent a little less time studying, worrying, and stressing. If only I had spent fewer hours crammed in the corner of the study hall, whether I was actually studying or catching up on sleep. If only I could have broken out of my shy, reserved shell and had the courage to say hi. At the same time, not everyone at school wanted to be my friend, and perhaps that was a difficult lesson to learn, but it was a vital one. Still. I could have tried a little harder.

Other than that, I have no regrets. I worked very hard for everything and I stayed incredibly focused as my life took on some very sharp twists and turns. I realized my senior year that I really didn't need to work as hard as I did at everything, but even knowing that, I continued to work hard and push myself to do my best. There is a crazy satisfaction in knowing that you gave everything you had to something, even if it didn't give you the result you wanted or dreamed of. For that reason, I wouldn't change anything about my high school experience if I could.

One more thing. I am so incredibly thankful for the support I received from my friends and family throughout my high school education. I cannot tell you how many days I went into the gym and just flopped down on my favorite mat and lamented over my latest test grade or my fears of not getting into college. And just like that, my teammates and various kids of all ages were right there to encourage me and tell me it would all be okay and that they believed I could get into any school in the world (a little naive, but heart warming). Those days I would come home from a long day at school and log into social media to read nice messages from my closest friends. Those days that my favorite teachers would tell me I did impressive work. All of those moments lifted my spirits and helped motivate me to keep pushing and dreaming.

With that, that concludes my thoughts about graduating. It was the happiest day of my life thus far. The road through high school was mostly difficult, disappointing, and frustrating, but there were definitely some key life experiences and life-changing people sprinkled throughout. And now, I am excited to turn the page and begin a new chapter as I start college in just a few short months. It should be a pretty good read.

Mathematics

So I got done with school last Wednesday. I know, right. I should be like "heck yeah" and "wow I can't believe this year went by so fast" and hanging out with theoretical friends and seeing movies and...you get the idea.

What have I been doing? Playing 2048 as I wait for the phone to ring for job interviews. I can't decide if that sentence makes me sound more like an adult or a child.

If you don't know what 2048 is, it's a math game involving powers of two, all the way up to 2^11, which equals 2048. You can try it out here (I warn you, it can be either very boring or, as in my case, very addicting).

Being addicted to this game reminds me that I genuinely like math. I just finished calculus this year and I actually really enjoyed it. Calculus was especially interesting and beautiful to me because it can seamlessly show the relationship among changing things, and how there are more connections among apparently unrelated things than you think.

I know that's vague, but that's my general idea. I was never really a math person until I started precalculus. It was then that I saw that many random things I had learned up to that point actually had relevance and worked together. And almost always flawlessly, at that. It got me curious.

Soon I discovered Numberphile as I was investigating why people seem to love to say they "hate math" or "were never much of a math person". There, I found a video of one of the world's greatest mathematicians, Edward Frenkel, discussing why he believed many people dislike math. You can watch that video here.

I was intrigued. And moved. And suddenly, it all made sense. I was always good at math, but it was boring until I got to higher level math. It is there when you begin to see correlations, and it becomes enticing and exquisite.

Back to Edward Frenkel. He is incredible. He advocates changing the way we teach math to allow kids to see the real gems of mathematics and show them that there is so much more to math than the boring stuff you do for 10 years. Frenkel recently wrote a book (which I plan on reading and enjoying very shortly), too, called Love and Math about his experience becoming a mathematician and other math-related things. He is even so in love with mathematics that he made an short, erotic movie, called Rights of Love and Math, about finding a mathematical formula for love.

Perhaps that seems like a little much, but that honestly inspires me. The fact that he does something he loves so much that he makes an almost pornographic movie about it is awesome to me. His personal story is inspiring in so many ways. He honestly has been an encouragement to me to continue loving math because it will only get better as it gets more difficult.

Perhaps the main reason I enjoy math is because, at least in the math I do, I know there is going to be a definite solution. You're presented with a problem and there is a satisfaction in knowing that you can solve it and get the single right answer. Life's problems are not so much like that. You're usually unexpectedly presented with a serious problem, and somehow you're expected to figure it out and get the right solution. But the key is, you rarely know the right course of action to take. Or the even the right solution. You're supposed to solve a problem that you don't know how to solve. You are effectively blind.

And that is where math is beautiful. For most of math, there is clarity. There is a correct answer, and many right ways to approach it. Once you find that solution, you experience the beauty of how numerous parts can fit together into the most splendid machine.

Mathematics is a truly wonderful and mysterious world. I hope that someday the common negative connotations associated with it dissolve with better teaching and understanding. Then, just maybe, we can all experience something truly beautiful.

I Think It's Okay To Be Sort Of Two-Faced

Yep. I'm somewhat two-faced.

I alternate between two basic personalities: sweet-awkward and sarcastic-snarky. I know. Those qualities are polar opposites, and perhaps I should be disappointed that I am not consistently one dimensional.

I'm kidding; I truly wish I had one magical personality that fit every mold.

Well, as long as I have two personalities, I might as well use them efficiently. Here's a brief summary.

Sweet-Awkward
> Good for: relatives, strangers, friends I don't know very well, and anyone I don't want to see my "snark" side.
> Bad for: conversations and interacting in general. Also requires a heck of a lot of energy to consistently appear happy.
Includes: fake laughing at everything, smiling sweetly, awkwardly saying nice things, etc.

Sarcastic-Snarky
> Good for: people who don't take things annoyingly seriously and brothers. Requires very little energy.
> Bad for: parents, strangers, relatives, drama queens, serious people, and just about everyone.
Includes: sarcastic replies to basic questions, stating the obvious, giving unrealistic solutions to problems that aren't actually problems, making realistic observations that are perceived as snarky, etc.

Of course, since I am, to some extent, two-faced, I have to justify it. I truly think most people are like this; I mean you don't really want to say something extremely sarcastic to your great great grandmother. And you usually keep a shy, reserved front when meeting new people. It's just necessary for some people to get the better side of you, and that's okay.

Then, you get close enough to the right people to be able to fearlessly show who you feel like being sometimes. There is something to be said for really being yourself with someone and feeling completely safe and accepted in doing so. Seriously. If the other person still thinks you're cool enough to talk to, congratulations. You've made a real friend.

So, don't be bothered if you don't have a personality that works for everyone. Nothing works for everyone. When you find people you can really connect with, you'll realize that this was how it was always meant to be. And you will feel a lot more accepting of being shamelessly double-sided.

Making Commitments When You Feel Like a Child

Lately I've been thinking about the always increasing number of serious, long-term commitments you're expected to make as you become an adult. You decide you're going to college, you decide you're getting married, you decide you're going to take a job, and so on.

I'm no stranger to commitments. Heck, I devoted a decade of my life to one sport. On top of that, you literally make hundreds of commitments every day during gymnastics training. When you decide to do a skill that scares you, or your hardest tumbling pass, you have to 100% commit to it from the very beginning. Otherwise, you hesitate (what the gymnastics world calls "bail") and you get injured. Seriously.

But frankly, I'm scared of making really serious commitments. Like possibly life-changing commitments. I haven't really had to make any yet, but I know they're coming, and even the thought of that scares me.

This brings me to my next point: how on earth can you make a long-term commitment when you feel like a child? I may be an "adult", but I still feel incredibly young, vulnerable, and wholly ignorant about so, so many things. Yet, I'm going to be expected to decide for myself the routes I want to take in life.

Also, I usually don't really spend time thinking about the decisions others make, but lately, some of my friends my age or younger have decided to get married. Uh, yeah. Get freaking married. I don't know how they feel, and it really shouldn't concern me, but it honestly seems terrifying. To think that you are just 18 years old and already completely committed to someone else, forever. I imagine other people don't see it as terrifying as I do, but then again, they're probably not as paranoid as I am.

I guess it's normal to be scared of intense commitments because of all the unknowns involved. What will happen? What could I lose? What could I gain? What if I took another path--what would be different? Everything is out of our control, and it all just really reminds us who we really are: powerless, defenseless human beings. That's ironic considering how much we think we have control and how much we actually have control. We can't be certain of anything. We can't truly decide anything for ourselves. It is all in other hands.

Knowing that, the idea of our being relatively powerless sort of undermines "decision making" if we can't really do anything about it. But is this what ultimately transforms you into a real adult--being able to competently make difficult, long-term commitments, acknowledging that making the decision itself is probably the only control we have in it? Because if it is, that would explain why I'm afraid of making them--it all circles back to not wanting to grow up!

How to Sort of Survive the College Admissions Process

I know I've already been pretty snarky about the college admissions process, and it's probably annoying to listen to. My friends and parents think so, at least.

But you, my readers, are getting another dose of it today on another "Mer Monday" here on the blog. Yes, I thought that was cute. Mer Monday: a new sad/sarcastic/confused post, every Monday, every week.

Anyway, let's get into my step by step survival guide concerning college admissions and senior year of high school.

1. Research your colleges by not going solely off rankings.
2. Spend your summer before senior year NOT in summer school. You are going to want to have as much fun as possible, because there is no such thing when the school year starts.
3. At the start of school, sign up for as many AP courses you think you can handle without spontaneously combusting. Colleges love them. And you learn a heck of a lot, too. Do you think I would know that there is an enzyme called aminoacyl tRNA synthetase without taking AP biology?
4. Read up on books such as "On Writing the College Application Essay" and endless articles on the internet about acing your interviews, portfolios, and your last few SAT/ACT/subject tests. You want to be perfect, darling.
5. At the same time, stay off of College Confidential. It is never a confidence booster. It will never give you a good indication if you can get into a school. It will only make you sourly depressed for a couple of days at a time.
6. Start writing your essays. Just write. Don't think. Just write; the thinking comes in later when you realize they are complete crap and you have no time to change your topic.
7. Start editing your essays. You'll probably have to get up at crazy morning hours or stay up late to do this because you're taking 9 AP courses, remember?
8. Talk to your friends. It really helps when your friends tolerate your depressing rants about the whole thing. Except, talk to the ones who know something about the process. Otherwise, you'll just get frustrated explaining everything to that person and you'll come out feeling worse.

Example: So what's the average SAT score for Harvard freshmen? 2400? Is that good? What's yours? You mean yours is 1000 points lower? Are you sure they would even want you?

9. Keep writing your essays. They are your part-time job. They are your life. They are you. They are YOUR SOUL. Understand? Essays = soul. Colleges care the most about your soul and your SAT score, activities, awards, your algae lab in your bedroom, etc.

10. Along the way, make sure your application truly reflects your diversity comparable to that of a carbon atom. Diversity = acceptance.

11. Fully consider what will happen if you don't get into any of the schools you want. Because it is a very likely reality these days. Preparing yourself mentally for the worst helps to really alleviate the shock of the reality if it happens.

12. But keep dreaming and praying. When everything is uncertain, everything is possible. 

13. Don't post excessively sarcastic things that could be easily misinterpreted on Facebook or Twitter. I lived in fear for so many months about saying something on social media that could cause me to lose any theoretical acceptance I got. 

14. Spend your microscopic amount of free time doing something you love. It could be watching every danisnotonfire video on YouTube or spending an hour on Pinterest scrolling through pure materialistic gold. Your free time is your oyster, and make sure to relish it. Side story: my MIT interviewer asked me what I would do on a weekend with nothing to do. I had never even considered this a possibility, and I wanted to honestly answer "I'd spend it on the internet" but I had to say something that made me seem less introverted and pathetic. But hey, spending time on the internet is something I love. #yolo

15. Go to your college interviews. And if you get in there and realize within 10 minutes that the school is obviously not a match for you, that's okay. You've realized something important.
16. Send off your applications. So it should be about December now, and you should be about done with everything now. Send them off. Get them out of your life. You can move on now to more fun things.
17. But you can't move on because now you're exhausted and worried. That's normal, unfortunately.
18. Get rejected from your dream school. Ah, the worst case scenario happens. Feel it. Embrace it. Embrace something that you dearly hoped wouldn't happen, and notice how you're all right and it's really not the end of the world.
19. Get accepted into your back up school. Getting into your back up school means that a lot worse can't happen, and your back up school probably isn't such a bad school. At least, you need to start thinking that now.
20. When you get all of your decisions, spend a couple of days thinking about how everything could have been different if you had only been more diverse. 
21. Come to terms with everything and accept your best offer. I'm still working on this part.

Okay. I promise I will stop being such a sore loser about this. Or I'll at least stop talking about it.

The reality is that college admissions is only the first of many other kinds of "admissions" you'll experience in your life. There's always so much hope and promise at the start of it all, and then slowly the truth sets in. That's why it can be so brutal to the unsuspecting 18 year old; they are still naive. I imagine that with more applications, interviews, etc. to jobs and other positions you experience in the future, you become more seasoned and understanding. And tougher. And you cry less and eat less ice cream.

Besides, what matters most is not where you go to college, where you get a job, and so on, but rather what  you do with your life. Everything is what you make of it. You ultimately decide the level of education you get and what you learn from your job. If you can fully realize this, congratulations. You've attained a level of clarity that many will never reach. Be thankful for every opportunity you get and try not to compare it to the opportunities others receive. After all, the kids who got into the Ivy League may have had algae labs in their bedrooms, but you may have a Nobel prize in your future. Or not. You never know!

The Last Day of My Biggest Identity

How long have I been a gymnast? Take a guess.

If you guessed 10 years, then you should go buy a lottery ticket ASAP.

I've been a competitive gymnast for 10 years. And now, it is all coming to an end.

I've thought a lot about quitting for a long time. I've thought about how much I've wanted to quit when I got really serious. I've thought a lot about how my last day would feel--glorious, sad, or something else.

Gymnastics started innocently when I was 6 years old. At my school, parents had the option to enroll their kids in gymnastics classes instead of P.E. My parents chose to not enroll me, but the instructor saw how much I wanted to be a part of the class, and included me anyway most of the time. And I fell so incredibly in love. I loved how it felt to point my toes, to hold a handstand for a millisecond, and stick a cartwheel. I had been given a tiny, tiny taste of the world of gymnastics, and it was much too late to turn back now.

Eventually, I joined a gymnastics class at a gym. I was a 7 year old in a class of 16 year old girls. This didn't bother me, because I was finally doing the sport I loved.

This gym didn't work out and I left a few months later. I had been out of gymnastics for a few days when my mom told me I was going to try out at another gym. I remember feeling incredibly reluctant to go to this practice, but I was pulled along anyway. Little did I know that I would spend the next 9 years of my life growing up in this gym.

I finally got to experience what it was like being a part of a team. The support you receive from being on a serious team was something I had never experienced before and it made me feel like I was part of something great. Here I was, 9 years old, and I was on an absolute high. Competing at level 4 with my best friends, with coaches that cared about me so much, and parents that loved cheering for me at meets.

The years passed, and I moved through the levels somewhat slowly, but thoroughly enjoyed them. In the back of my mind was this drive to become an optional level gymnast, meaning that I would be able to make up my own routines at that point because the skills were increasing in difficulty. Optional levels started at level 7, and I was only 2 levels away.

Sure there were many happy moments and challenges along the way to this goal, but nothing major until just after I turned 13. It was then that gymnastics as I saw it at that point took a dark twist.

My current coach decided to give her position over to someone new, who could make our team even more experienced and competitive. This guy coached alongside the world's best coaches and was truly exceptional. He was going to change everything, for the better. I still have the paper that I was given announcing this:

"Although change may be uneasy, it can be the beginning of GREAT THINGS to come!!"

He changed everything, all right; little did anyone know what this man was truly capable of. He would scare off everyone on the team except for me and another girl. Little did anyone know that he would severely batter and bruise a vulnerable, sensitive, and confused girl who already had a multitude of worries on her hands. And little did anyone know how much this girl suffered quietly and horribly--for an entire year.

Perhaps I will go into more detail that wretched year in another post, but it all culminated in an extreme emotional breakdown and in his being fired. Finally, I could move on.

Well, it is somewhat ironic, but that year he worked with me, I was at my career best. The next four years consisted of two more coach changes and ultimately slowing down a bit as my academics picked up.

I did reach optional levels. In fact, I reached level 8 (there are essentially 11 levels in gymnastics, levels 1-10 and elite). When I think about it, I'm thoroughly surprised and proud I made it this far. It was an extremely difficult journey, and I have reached a level of this sport that many little girls aspire to reach. I cannot fully describe to you how I felt that first day that I realized that I was something of a role model to the gym's younger gymnasts. That day, I had just finished doing a skill I did not particularly like. As I looked up from landing, I noticed a young girl separated from her class, just standing there, staring at me in awe. There was a sparkle in her eyes that spoke I want to be just like that.

From then on, I noticed other kids doing that. And how they would occasionally come up to me and tell me that I was cool. And how their parents would do that too. And how I felt like it was all worthwhile--how I was inspiring something, no matter how small, in people by just doing something that I saw as basic.

In the end, I cannot stress how much I have thought about quitting, switching gyms, or trying something new. How many days I stood in the gym, exhausted and feeling incapable of making it through another 3 hours of practice, just thinking over and over Why am I here? Any other sport in the world would have been so much easier. I cannot stress how much I hated gymnastics that year with the horrible coach. How I dreaded every day, every second, every skill during that time. I regained some joy with the sport for a while after that, but for the past two years, I've been dying to get out. I have thoroughly wrestled with this sport; it has been a constant uphill battle.

So why did I stay in gymnastics this whole time? Why did I choose to stay when I might have been a whole lot happier without it? When all my friends had quit and I spent my days on a team of girls significantly younger than me--why did I stay?

I believe I stayed because, ultimately, if you know in your heart that something is right for you, you will stick with it. You will stay through the pain, the joy, the tears, the injuries, the pressure, the stress, the scrutiny, the feelings, and the losses. The tests and the triumphs. You will stay because you inherently know that this is right for you. That you wouldn't be the same without it. That this thing is you. It is your core identity, and you understand that no matter how difficult it is, it is who you are. And you guard who you are, with everything you have, for as long as you can. Because you know you will be a completely different you once you lose this identity.

As I look toward my last day in just a week, I have mixed emotions. But I will have satisfaction in that I gave everything I had to this sport, and this sport gave me everything that I am in return: strong, disciplined, and hard working. Gymnastics also gave me an endless list of other things, both positive and negative, but it has ultimately shaped me into the girl I am today. For that reason, I owe everything to gymnastics. It has truly given my identity, and I would be nothing without it.