I’m a student. I go to a small, liberal arts college where I study Media Communication and Spanish, and a lot of other things, like Political Science, Law, and Psychology. I’m a member of a sorority, have a job, edit for the campus newspaper, and tutor students. I’m very fortunate to get to take all of the classes that I take in such a lovely campus. I know I’m lucky. And sometimes, on these late nights when I’m just sitting in my dorm avoiding researching the Iranian Question, I should think about these things. I have the most wonderful sisters, who can make all-nighters and in-class naps bearable, and something to laugh at sooner than later. I have people here. And it’s good. Most of the time, great, in fact. I am lucky.
Being at this weird little place in my life, a college student, “your twenties,” just whatever, I have to say, it’s hard. It’s strange. It’s a time that gets so criticized for being… the awful time that it is. I mean, look. Here’s the thing. People say, stereotypically, that when you’re twenty, you think you know everything. You’re invincible. You’re selfish.
And, you know, I think that’s true. However, I also feel that maybe everyone should take a look at the typical Western and American lifestyle for most people in their twenties.
As this is a decade I am too-fast approaching, I think that I owe it some thought and hopefully some clarification. Like I said, I am a student. People ask me all of the time what I am doing at school, and if I like it,and what my plans are for the future. I have tried my best, and continue to try and plan my future, taking classes that will apparently make me “well-rounded,” going to networking seminars, studying, of course, and researching all that there is for a girl like me to do in this humongous world. I try. But sometimes, I wonder. How am I supposed to do this task set ahead of me? Pick and choose what will go on my resume, to teach me how to get a job that will determine my socio-economic status, at least, in this big, big world, which extends into all of the areas of my little, tiny life, but will shape my entire existence? I mean, I study. I read. Socio-economic status–this is real life: the difference between ramen noodles and fine wine or something. Or health insurance. And this all is factored from these choices I’m supposed to make, and plan, and hope for.
Yes, this is a melodramatic rendering of the life of a college student–I mean, I don’t really think this stuff, most of the time. It’s late, and it’s scary… all by myself with my thoughts at night. I think about what I’m going to do when I get out of here. Which is sooner, rather than later,like I sometimes wish. I think about what I am supposed to be, and what someone will define me as, just by putting one little letter into a computer–they alter the appearance of my resume and portfolio. This is my world. With my parents helping so much towards college tuition, I can’t help but be consumed by using thier money wisely. With professors and mentors talking so much bout my future plans, I feel like I can’t possibly crawl out of this world. It is selfish. My whole life swirls around me, and I don’t know what to make of it, most of the time. I have a whole future to pray, sort, and plan… so yes. My world is me. But whether I fly across the world and count my essays, exams and tears as useless, or I earn my doctorate, I still have a million skills, gifts, and dreams to put somewhere. I have callings and testimonies to give. I have people to meet, tears to cry, and more papers to write. And mostly, I have unknowns. I don’t know.
All I really know right now, is that I am called to be here in this spot. Worshiping while I study. When God looks at me, he sees me reflected through Jesus, who makes me perfectly whole, ready for his blessings. My puppies are my best friends. My sister loves me to the moon and back, and Foor will always be proud of me. I love words and things made of potatoes and I will always be little and cute, no matter how hard I try to be something else… and neither adjective is bad, and I just have to deal with both of them, and hope for the best.
Oh. And bows make me happy. They are girly and vintage, and remind me of the ones I used to wear. So, I know that bows are great.