Dear Readers,

Welcome to the first issue of CollegeBored! I promise you that senioritis hasn’t hit me. Yet. 

So I’m not going to sugarcoat it. We all know this first quarter has been hard. And confusing. Okay, I’d just like to know why Whally is hitting Smally in my physics problem, not how to apply Newton’s 3rd Law to it. Or maybe why a brick is falling into a boat, instead of how to calculate its acceleration. Isn’t that more important? Sometimes I’d like to just go back into time to meet Newton and ask him why he wanted to complicate my life so much. Okay, sorry, I digress.

The point I was trying to make was that these past two months have consisted of lots of hard-core, deep thinking, and having to enter your transcript into the Common App and contemplate where you went wrong certainly doesn’t help. Yeah, that was a really humbling experience. On top of that, there’s also navigating relationships and your social life. If anyone has ever heard “ballad of a homeschooled girl” by Olivia Rodrigo, I sometimes feel like that song was written with me as an inspiration. “I broke a glass, I tripped and fell.” Yep, been there, done that. “I stumbled over all my words, I made it weird, I made it worse.” Oh yeah, a countless number of times, want me to write a book? “Wanna curl up and die.” Without doubt!

Each time before I take a test, I assure myself that I’ll cook. Yeah, no. Turns out, the test cooks me. Each time I get up to talk in front of the class, I swear I forget how to speak English. And then there’s talking to people who don’t care for one hot second about what you’re saying to them. I swear I could start speaking German and they still wouldn’t budge. How gratifying!

However, I’ve realized that part of growing up is coming to terms with those icky and embarrassing moments. Yeah, I’ve been getting not-so-ideal grades on my physics tests (I still barely know the difference between velocity and acceleration; if anyone knows, please help). And yeah, crying on your friend’s shoulder after school in Tatte so that the whole town sees is not fun. However, there’s some good that comes out. I was reminded how lucky I was to have a friend who was there to help me wipe the tears and provide a shoulder to cry on, quite literally. 

And at the end of the day, those relationships are more valuable than any grade. Yeah, I get anxious talking in front of certain people, but it shows that I care about how the words that come out of my mouth will affect those around me. And yes, I hate the feeling of yapping to someone just to find out that they really don’t care. It hurts. It really does. And to be completely honest, I still haven’t figured that one quite out. But that’s okay, because growing up is hard and takes time.

All of this is to say, be patient with yourself as you navigate this chaotic school. Don’t go hitting Smally like Whally did just because you couldn’t figure out their physics problem. Find the good in that pain. Maybe you befriended a classmate in the process of them helping you out. Instead of counting all the things that you regret (this would take me years), start counting all the moments you’re grateful for. 

I’ve realized that I am not my kinematics graphing grade. I am not my awkward social moments. Rather, I am a friend. A classmate. A sister. A daughter. All these meaningful relationships hold so much more than any grade or embarrassment. And these relationships surely overrule the ones where I’ve felt like a ghost, with no one listening.

So, I encourage you to ask yourself who you are, because I assure you that you as well are not your physics grade and you are worth being talked to, no matter what anyone else says. We are all trying to navigate this crazy process together, and with application deadlines just around the corner, it is easy to forget what’s important: the meaning you find in yourself and your relationships. I hope that as decisions roll in and quarter two begins, you all start rooting for yourselves. I know that I’m rooting for you.

All the best,

Nikki