Advice from a current high school senior

Yesterday afternoon during cross country practice I ran the typical Perkins block with a sophomore who goes to my school. Naturally, small talk ensued. Fall break. The beach. School. Stress.

So I leaned into the conversation, and beneath the smile my teammate gave to the other runners we passed, I discovered an anxiety about high school.

And I saw myself.

I saw sophomore Chloé worrying about who she would become, what she would do, what she would be known for. I slipped back into her turning mind that signed up for as many clubs her schedule allowed, every possible volunteer opportunity, classes she knew would make her stand out, the leadership positions she thought she needed...The list goes on.

I felt for sophomore Chloé, frustrated because she thought high school was supposed to be the best years of her life, filled with friend parties and boys and football games and cool clubs and amazing classes.

Sophomore Chloé did not understand that high school is filled with all of these things and more. However, overburdened by who I thought I needed to be, I could not focus on the parties, the games, the club meetings, the classes. Instead, I moved day to day, pining after an identity that was not mine.

Instead of asking who Chloé wanted to be, I asked what should Chloé be?

I do not know when I started asking the first question. It has definitely been a journey to get to the point where I even let myself consider what I love to do over what I should do. However, now as a senior in high school, I can safely say that the first question is the better question, the only valid question in fact.

When my teammate discussed the pressures of being the perfect student and winning awards and getting leadership positions, all I wanted to tell her was the cost: the rocky friendships, the lack of sleep, the life that revolves around what you DO.

It is calculated and robotic to follow the mold. I ask you to break it. Break it as best you can. In fact, create a new one that only molds to your beautiful soul.

Because what they don’t tell you when you are an underclassmen is this: there are ten activity slots on that common application. Ten slots to demonstrate how you spend your time. Ten slots that you do not even have to fill all the way. Ten slots that probably will not mention the year you tried cheerleading, the year you were in STEM club and volunteered all your free periods to build a can structure, the year you missed every lunch period because of club meetings.

With that said, fill those slots with what you fell in love with in high school. Fill your time with who you are. Don’t ever do things just because you think it will make those ten slots look better. Don’t ever do things just because you think you should.

Because one day you will be on a run or in a class or at a coffee shop with an underclassman, and you will remember the identity you sought after. You will remind her that she is the only identity she should ever seek after.

And then, you will sigh in relief. Because you are you: your own mold of friends, parties, boys, clubs, and classes. There is no one else you would ever want to be.