Steadying The Boat — A Reflection
Packing up the home I’ve built here is more painful than I thought it would be.
This has been the year where I learned that I can let the waters guide my boat rather than rip it apart — that turbulent currents don’t have to destroy all that I’ve built. As I reflected with my therapist a few days ago on how we’ve walked together through my first year in university, I can feel pride swelling deep within my ribcage.
I used to think that because I could rebuild quickly, I was functioning as my healthiest self. I believed that because I could be knocked over and reconstruct what I lost from the rubble with relative ease, I was more capable of navigating through change than the average person.
I never considered the fact that maybe, I don’t have to be destroyed in the first place.
This was the year where I wrestled with the idea of stability and security. I came to the conclusion that over the past ten months, I have learned to move with the gentle ebb and flow of emotional change; if the life that I’ve been given is a boat in an ocean, then I have spent years gluing my planks back together after a hurricane. I am so used to patching up holes in my walls and desperately stitching my sails back together before the next storm hit. What I know now is that renewal doesn’t mean you have to start from scratch every time. Transformation doesn’t mean that you have to be knocked down onto your knees, gasping for air as you struggle to your feet.
I can now listen to the gentle hum of the universe as I fall asleep and understand that I’m going to wake up in a different place in a few hours, full of new life and fresh air. Four months ago, the bittersweet scent of an empty dorm room after months of shared memories would be enough to shatter my world for a while. Today, I’m saddened by the change but not destroyed by it — instead, I am renewed by how much I’ve grown. My boat doesn’t fall apart as I close the door on Room 623 — I am moved by the current but not consumed by it.
It feels good to be this centered.
The world feels much different to me now. I have held so many stories in my hands and heard the gut-wrenching humanity of the community around me; I learned to hear concertos and ballads in the conversations of my colleagues and the people on the streets of Capitol Hill. Being so affected by the emotion of the people close to me was exhausting; the experience of incredible emotional intimacy weighed me down more than I thought was possible. It is very easy for me to soak up both deep trauma and intense happiness, making me often saturated with concern and sensitivity. As much as I’d like to be so intensely aware of the emotional state of the people around me, it just isn’t a feasible way to live every second of every day — the powerful weight of the world completely burned me out. I could feel the exhaustion deep in my bones
Understanding this was the first step to my gentle renewal throughout my first year of college. I gradually worked, day by day, towards achieving a steady sense of balance and strength through the painful change, refreshing growth, and joyful wonder of every day. I learned the art of emotional distance — that it doesn’t mean you stop caring about the people around you, but rather that you can love without experiencing devastating loss at every little change or shift.
This year has been so full of transformation but I have loved every second of it. It has been, without a doubt, the happiest and most life-giving year of my existence. To everyone who has taught me, pushed me, hurt me, healed me, learned with me, sat with me, laughed with me, cried with me — thank you. Thank you for walking with me through the fall, the winter, and the spring. I have so loved experiencing the seasons together.
I am so full of love and learning that I could burst, and as I dive headfirst into this summer with a new internship, old friends, and a blossoming relationship full of adventure and safety, I can feel myself stretching into this comfortable space of self-assurance and contentment. And to be honest with you? It feels incredible. I am so proud of myself and how I’ve created a life for myself outside of anything I’ve ever known before.
