On the Last Day of Neurophysiology Lab My Professors Gave to Me ...

Inspiration.
Confidence.
Humility.

Remember when I vowed to post every day or every other day? Yeah, being a student caught up to me. I know I have no excuse when some people without fail chug out new creations every single day and my petite doctor friend PetiteXXS even posts more often than I do. Even if I don't write anything inspirational or important, it's important to keep writing. I just don't want blogging to feel like a chore. I don't want to have to do anything. This was all supposed to be fun, no pressure.

As the semester dwindles down I actually feel like this is the first weekend and week in which I've felt in control of my life. I've felt relatively efficient if not at least hardworking. I had a great interview on Saturday for Co-Chair of the community service organization I'm currently in and I got the position! I don't feel so guilty thinking about my life as "me, me, me, what are my goals, my thoughts, my feelings?" I don't feel guilty for reminding myself that I have strengths that go along with my weaknesses. I remembered what makes me powerful is ideation. I've lived in such negative light, always picking on myself and needing to be perfect in everything I do mentally that I've become a hardened pessimist. For the first time in a long time since I started college, things are falling into place because I have agency. Because I tell myself that I can. Because I "just do it." This brings me back to the first post I ever wrote in this blog. It's exhilarating to rediscover this side of myself.

I know this is a little more personal than I usually write but a lot of you appreciate and ask for more personal posts to get to know me. I sure appreciate it when I get to meet the person behind the posts. Sure it's strange thinking that I have a connection with so many people out there in the world who turn on their computers and type in my blog url. It's flattering and daunting and comforting all at once. Being personal is nothing I'm ashamed of. My real life friend and coworker asked me what do I want to do with my sense of style, with fashion? Where do I want to take this? He told me that I could make this big and that I needn't feel afraid of telling my real life friends or being shocked/embarrassed when people bump into me on campus and say, "Hey, I read your blog." I had to ponder it all because there's a reason I click on pictures and links in my dashboard. There's a reason why I pull up a new post box and type away furiously. There's a reason why I brave the cold to snap a few outfit pictures. This is my one little corner of that huge boundless interweb. This is the true me that I hide from people because I feel ashamed that a person studying in my field would judge me for frivolous interests in a serious profession. But then I remember that once upon a time, I was fearless. I had no shame. I felt no guilt. I'm not trying to turn into a robot but I'm going to stop crying because of me. I'm going to stop feeling sorry for myself because in the end, no one can make me prouder or more disappointed than myself.

This one life we're given is all about taking risks. Signing up for that potentially difficult lab that forces me to get up twice a week and start collecting data at 8:30 AM. Risking a B or a B+ for the sake of knowledge, for the sake of curiosity, even if I know I can't be perfect. Swallowing my pride and the easy perfect GPA's that were so common in high school. Because this isn't high school. No one ever said it was going to be easy, and if they did, they lied. This semester, I have felt the most stressed, most miserable, sleepless, cranky, been an outright bitch to anyone within a 10 foot radius, but it was also the turning point in battle. I may not have all the smarts but I'm not going to give into a three digit number that labels my intelligence. I am artistic, I am a writer, I have all sorts of smarts that I don't even get to utilize on a daily basis. Who's to judge me because I can't derive equations as quickly or write a perfect manuscript? When I watched that cool video today on that projector screen, I realized that I don't ever, ever want to stop dreaming. I'm not done being enchanted with wanting to be a hero, I'm not done with wanting to be a doctor. I'm not done with living up to my "most likely to cure cancer" award from high school. I'm not done.

If there's anything I got right as a naive 14-year-old more concerned about finding someone to sit with during lunch than what purpose I really want to fulfill in life, it's that

I'm no quitter.