I BELONG TO the first batch that entered college through a screen — no campus tours, no freshie orientations, no traditional welcome events. We were also the first to graduate online because of the pandemic, and the first to not march at PICC. 

It was quiet, uncertain, and honestly, lonely. I often asked myself, “did I really belong here? In this course? Is this really my calling?” But I had already come so far, and backing out wasn’t an option.  

“We spend so much time racing toward the finish line, only to cross it and long for the beginning.”

College wasn’t what I imagined it would be. No one talks about how much of it you do alone — not because you lack friends, but because everyone is navigating their own path. I walked to class by myself, went on solo coffee runs, and handled responsibilities quietly. It was weird, but peaceful. And on those solo flights, I learned the most — not just about my course, but about who I was becoming.  

Somewhere along the way, I started showing up more for myself. I took on roles that pushed me to lead, to speak, to plan, and to serve — not because I had to, but because I wanted to grow. I challenged myself in spaces that once intimidated me and discovered that I was capable of more than I gave myself credit for. Little by little, those choices shaped the person I was becoming.  

College doesn’t end with a grand sendoff. For me, it ended on a random afternoon in June. After defending my thesis, I closed my laptop, sighed, and whispered, “I’m graduating.” I just sat there in silence — no deadlines, no rush — but the pressure still lingered.  

We spend so much time racing toward the finish line, only to cross it and long for the beginning. If I could offer one piece of advice to the younger years, it’s this: surround yourself with the right people, join organizations that challenge you, and make time for friendships. The version of you at the end of college will thank you for it.