One Year Later

What I Wish I Could Tell my High School Self

A year ago this week, I was in the process of graduating from high school. I skipped Senior Night in favor of one of my final dance rehearsals, balancing my priorities even until the end. I sang in the Baccalaureate Mass with my choir, and I played the violin alongside the pianist, one of my dearest friends. My name was forgotten in the program under Musicians, which bothered my parents more than it perturbed me, but, a year later, it irks me just the tiniest bit. Luckily, I have a good memory.

On the day of graduation, I sang the National Anthem with my a cappella choir, and I gave a speech as Salutatorian. I cannot even begin to count the number of times I cried, rewrote, and tore up copies of that speech.

At the end of high school, I was extremely bitter. I had lived my four years to the fullest and subsequently outgrown the school and the people I knew as my home throughout my teenage years. It was an incredibly painful process to outgrow people and places I was not quite ready to leave. I was disillusioned with the fact that many of the stereotypes about high school are, in fact, true, even at a small Catholic school in suburban Colorado. I had grown tired of the cliches and the homogenous rigidity of the student population. Failed by the administration when I needed their support the most, I was angry, rightfully so, but I turned this anger into cynicism on my own account.

Just a single year at LMU renewed my hope in the human spirit and in the goodness of people around me. I found a renewal in the faith I have practiced since I was born, while also expanding the critical and creative lenses with which I look at the world. I fell in love with Los Angeles and its people, and I am continuously inspired by the work of my classmates, professors, and friends.

If, after a year of college, I could tell my 14-year-old, pre-high-school self anything, here is what I would say:

• Do not stress about grades. It is not worth it. Nobody cares about the minute difference between an A and an A-.
• Do not take all the AP classes. Half of the colleges you apply to will not even take the credit. I spent hundreds of dollars taking the tests and stressed myself out way too much.
• Hang out with as many people as possible. Yes, the cliches make it hard to branch out, and every high schooler wants a "squad", but you will not see many of these people after graduation anyway. Take the chance and get to know as many as possible.
• You may leave high school with only a handful of close friends. After a year of college, there may be only two or three left. That is OK.
• Unless you have a very special, healthy, and solid relationship, do not try to date anyone with the purposes of a long term/long distance relationship. I cannot tell you how glad I was to be on my own at the beginning of college. No need to deal with three hour Skype calls when your new friends are out on an adventure or the classic Thanksgiving breakup. Believe me, I have seen it happen.
• Do not date your best friends, even if people say you will be perfect together. In fact, don't date at all if you don't want to. It is not worth your time or effort to date if it is just a method of conforming to high school culture.
• Ask that cute boy out to lunch. 
• You will not regret skipping friend hang outs and turning down dates to go to practice, rehearsal, or work. Make your passion your purpose, not your people.
• Life gets better. People in college will accept you for who you are. You can truly be you. I feel more beautiful and loved than ever thanks to the community at LMU.
• Speaking of which, you are already beautiful. Stop stressing about your khaki pants and polo shirt because you look gorgeous. So does every other girl. They are all beautiful. It is not a competition.
• Stand up for yourself. Do not let anyone tear you down. If someone is making you uncomfortable, trust your gut. Do not make time for people who are not reciprocal.
• Laugh at yourself. All those painful high school moments will be fodder for something great in the future (like this blog post, the English final I just wrote, or the book I want to write).

The essence of the final sentence of my speech from last May still rings true, and I am thankful to have found a university that supports my current and future endeavors.

To be true is a lifelong fight, but one I am determined to win.