As I sit at the desk by my bedside in my childhood home, I find myself surrounded by remnants of past versions of myself that, on some days, I can hardly recognize. Each version was shaped not in isolation but alongside those who have stood beside me, whose company turn a quiet corner of self-reflection into a space crowded with the presence of others.
Each object in the room holds a story, from the bouquet of crochet flowers gifted to me by a dear friend, neatly arranged at the corner of my desk, to the framed black-and-white snapshot hanging above it with a short, sweet message on the back that I know by heart.
Even the gratitude gram tacked next to that photo, given to me by a former boss on my last day at an internship in Washington, D.C., and the sticky note I picked up off an inspiration board in high school reminding me to “enjoy moments before they become memories” have come to represent a meaning that extends far beyond the space they occupy
Sitting here, so close to the end of my undergraduate journey at UTA, I find myself at a loss for words to express all the small moments and big experiences that have defined my self-growth during my time here.
And yet, the term self-growth feels incomplete, because there can be no self-growth without human interaction.
When I began college, I found that because gaining independence is often treated as a rite of passage, it’s easy to mistake isolation for maturity. I was fortunate to enter this chapter of my life with strong familial relationships and friendships to ground me, but even then, I often felt loneliness creeping in during quiet moments.
With childhood friends gone for college and more time spent away from home, I began to notice how easily social media seemed to fill emotional gaps on campus. And I realized that in an age when these platforms offer proximity but not intimacy, it is essential to remember that though the world may be at our fingertips, the real world, full of opportunity and hope, lies just beyond that rectangular screen.
When I look up at the small tokens taped above my desk, I know that long after the screen goes dark, I’ll be able to find reminders of how far I’ve come and how deeply I’ve been loved along the way.
From my family, I have learned that love is a force that can be channeled both gently and fiercely, and that true harmony arises when there is balance between the two.
From my friends, I have learned that sometimes showing up in the smallest ways is what matters the most.
And from my former bosses, co-workers and professors at UTA, I have learned that passion, when coupled with ambition, can become a current capable of transforming the world.
These lessons from each person in my life have shaped me into the woman I am today. I am a patchwork, a mosaic of all those whom I have loved.
Adulthood is not a journey we must undertake alone. Yes, individuality and independence should be celebrated and appreciated, but in this rush to find ourselves, we must remember that interdependence is also innately human.
Recognize your mosaic. Recognize the people who have helped you reach where you are today, and cherish them.