Mental Health

Crying doesn’t mean you’re weak. It’s time to understand what those waterworks really are — a slippery warning

Halfway through kindergarten class, my parents got a phone call.
I’d brought my classmate to tears over a cup of fruity Jell-O.

Explaining the situation to my patient teacher, I elaborated that my lunchtime outbursts were justified. I wiped hot tears away from the bridge of my nose and started my story again.

Fruity Jell-O wasn’t a real food.

This abomination of fruit and gelatin was unlike anything else I had seen before, and that made it unacceptable. Its presence at the lunch table was wrong. But no one took my accusations seriously. My emotions had gotten the better of me. Worse still, my words unintentionally hurt someone that day. I immediately regretted my over-emotional response. …

Student Life

How I knew it was time to start driving again

No Mejia, slow down! Not so fast! Not through traffic! Pull over.

My first day of high school driving lessons was not going well. I felt like a baby bird who had been catapulted from the relatively safe confines of the passenger seat into the fire. Driving was a lot harder than it looked, and it was giving me a headache to listen to my driving instructor, Martha, as she shrieked and told me I was about to crash just about every 10 seconds.

You’re going to kill us, Mejia! Oh my…

Martha proceeded to make an illegal U-turn to grab herself some pita bread. I sat in the car, eyes red. Outside, all the other cars zoomed past me on the main road through town. …

Mental Health

Why I’m not buying new sneakers in 2021

I remember the thrill of my legs beating the ground, the excitement behind those screaming crowds. I remember the rush of adrenaline that flooded my body right before I rounded that last lap of the cross-country course.

Above all, I remember wanting to die.

“Everybody wants to save the world… but no one wants to die. Wanna try?”

— My Chemical Romance

It might seem silly, but as a young person, running gave me a way to escape my body. I knew that in the moments between that final lap around the course and the finish line, I was in charge. …

Writing

What better place to begin than the end?

Earth suffered long enough before our hero arrived at world’s end.

Dystopian fiction is thrilling to read. With global climate change, corrupt politicians and a killer virus making headlines now more than ever, it’s easy to compare our modern reality to a suitably horrifying yet fictional Armageddon.

Both teens and adults love to see characters prevail in a world that crumbles around them. They love to see heroes who prevail with magic, teamwork, character development and even sheer luck. Modern dystopian novels blur the lines between authority and underdogs when they feature scrappy protagonists who show up at the wrong place and the right time. …

Mental Health

Cameras, COVID and crises leave little space for panic rooms

In Los Angeles, there’s always someone watching.

I remember that first year living on campus at the University of Southern California not so much in terms of achievements or friendships learned and lost, but in snapshots, stored somewhere behind my mind’s camera and the bustling Instagram feeds that reassured everyone back home that things were okay, better than ever. Thank you for asking.

I remember searching frantically for a place to be alone. And finding none, I wandered out of my cramped dorm bedroom, past the security guard stationed at the door of our housing complex, into the garden where the night-damp morning glories withered against the fence. …

Self

Hate uneven skin? Here’s how you can learn to love your acne.

Redness, breaking the skin — not just a zit or two but vast, uneven patches changing day by day.

For the greater half of the last decade, my face has been a scattered constellation of angry painful bumps. Creams, pills, cosmetics and injections promise to ‘fix’ this bothersome adult acne, but one way or another, those pesky pimples return.

Please refrain from telling me or anyone else with adult acne to drink water, exercise, restrict sugar intake or try your favorite charcoal-gold-dust face wash. Chances are, we tried that. Yet those inevitable bumps show up every day, little troopers.

This year, I’ve been to three different dermatologists. I’ve tried everything short of chemical peels and high-risk injections to keep my acne at bay. I’ve learned which foundations best cover dermal swelling, which lotions best protect what’s left of my speckled face, and which chemical combinations spell danger for my already sensitive skin. …

Self

Do they take time to point out your blind spots?

‘You need to fix that.’

The best conversations often occur at the worst of times.

I’ve sympathized with divorce stories at summer camp.
I’ve handled another’s deep-rooted depression at Disneyland.
I confessed to my crush after a horrid week when I had hardly eaten a thing.

But what about when I’m the one who needs a sympathetic listener? These conversations usually end with the realization that I don’t take criticism well. I fancy myself a good sounding board, but when I have to listen to my own failings, that hurts, big time. I get uncomfortable. I squirm in my seat.

I didn’t completely understand what makes a good listener until this year. …