Features
Senior Reflection: Figuring it out...finally
By Kaitlin McCabe ’16
November 13, 2015
Senior year is wonderfully—and horrifyingly—a hell of a lot like freshman year all over again.
Like a first-year arriving for Orientation, I don’t recognize many faces around campus now that I’ve been abroad for a semester. Though I knew my closest friends were always there for me, I trembled at the idea of which of my peers I would eat meals with or spend weekends with the night before my parents dropped me off to start the semester. Buildings have been redesigned, the food is a little different and people I spoke to everyday are now strangers. Coming back has every bit been a great homeward bound experience as well as an eye-opener. Nothing is permanent: people graduate, campuses evolve, life goes on.
I’d say I’m pretty well known around campus for being an obsessive workaholic, for being involved in as many activities as my schedule could allow. And that’s probably true. My past semesters at Hamilton have all followed the same pattern: they’ve been mentally and physically exhausting and highly caffeinated, involving five classes, two jobs, two Editor-in-Chief positions and networking for upcoming internships—all while maintaining some semblance of sanity and a social life. Since my first day here, I’ve set academic, professional and personal goals to accomplish, and I’ve practically conquered them all. My friends thought it was a wonder that I was so put together, so focused and dedicated.
But really, I was a complete and total mess. Three years later, I’m only just getting better.
I started Hamilton with an untreated eating disorder, which plagued and tormented not only me but also my family and friends since junior year of high school. Between general adjustment to college and social anxiety, my condition got worse and consumed me until sophomore year. Yet, I began relapsing last year, only to discover this summer that for the last two years I have unknowingly been struggling with polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS), an incurable disease that causes drastic physical changes and mental health difficulties, including anxiety and depression.
Physically, I’m living my worst nightmare. Mentally, the picture’s not much better.
But, after three years of confusion and mistakes, things have finally started to click. Jumping between friend groups, I have found people I really love spending time with, people who appreciate me for whom I am rather than who I think they want me to be. I’ve “retired” from many of the activities I’d sold my soul to in the past. I take three classes and fill my spare time with good ol’ Netflix and naps (yes, I nap now). And I have absolutely no problem staying in with friends and just hanging out sober rather than getting pointlessly tipsy to go waste time at a silly party I really have no interest in going to.
For the first time, I feel like I’m genuinely enjoying my time here, not just putting on a face to convince both others and myself that it’s all fine and good. I don’t feel the need to pretend anymore, and now, there’s no need to.
Throughout our college experience, we are constantly joining clubs, taking classes and going out to events we don’t want to just because we think we have to for our resumes or to boost our social life. But as we reach the end of our time on the Hill, we all just grow to dread our classes and only think about how we are completely screwed for and terrified about the future—that is, if you let yourself. Now I see that life really is too short to stress over every little thing that we do and to sacrifice good times and happiness in the present because we are living in and for the future.
Stop “doing” and “planning.” Stop thinking that you need people or activities to make you happy or worth something. Just enjoy being alone. Eat alone in the dining halls, go for a walk in the Glen, have a quiet night-in. In being on your own, you will truly learn about yourself. You will grow. You will realize your dreams. You will become the person you are meant to be, and better yet, you’ll be sure of yourself. At the end of the day, belief in yourself is really the only thing you need.
So take my advice, and don’t follow the example I set in my first few years here. I’ve spent most of my time in the future—and trust me, it’ll be great—but right now, it’s unimportant, irrelevant. All I want is to be here and now and to savor each and every last second of my time at Hamilton.