When I first toured UCLA as a high school junior, my initial
thought was, “Oh, man, I am so glad I’m not going to
school here.”
During a brief spring visit, I slumped down in the family
minivan’s backseat as students seemed to deluge the sidewalks
and cars jostled for a lane. Everything about the campus
intimidated me as I gazed out the window ““ the highrises, the
hectic pace, even the people. Everyone was on a mission, whereas I
was bewildered by it all.
At the time, UCLA represented what I feared and probably
couldn’t conquer. I couldn’t picture myself functioning
in an environment so completely unlike the rural Central Valley
town where I grew up. To come here would mean that I’d have
to start off from ground zero and make a life for myself on my
own.
As I pondered it that summer, though, attending UCLA began to
hold greater and greater appeal. The cultural vitality of a
metropolitan area, the opportunity to perhaps reinvent myself, and
the chance to explore the world beyond the strictures of small town
life all beckoned to me. Eventually I figured that if I ““
this total country girl ““ could make a life for myself here,
I could probably do just about anything.
A lot would have to change before that could happen though, and
while I’ve grown through my experiences here, I can’t
say there isn’t more I need to work on. But there’s
just so much more of life that I want to savor now, so much beyond
what I ever dreamed existed that sometimes I just want to go out
and live it with complete abandon.
In the past four years, I’ve often wondered what exactly
constitutes a life well lived because when I’ve looked around
campus, I saw so many definitions of people living life at full
tilt ““ whether they were abustle in activity or reading
quietly in the park. It’s been both perplexing and inspiring
to be surrounded by such different examples of what it means to
revel in life.
In the past four years, I’ve learned that no matter where
I go, the prospect of coming home to a long familiar place is the
most comforting thing ““ whether that place is a dusky country
road bordered by vineyards and orchards, or an old, good friend who
knows me from way back when.
I’ve come to appreciate that I have an incredibly
supportive family, and that it’s from them that I gain my
strength and ability to grow. I’ve come to love the
friendships I’ve been able to foster, as well as hope that
someday I can reconnect to people with whom I’ve lost
touch.
Most of all, I’ve learned that my world can accommodate
new dreams and loves right along with the old ones, and that no
matter where I go or what I do, it’ll be the people I love
who make my world. The future seems rife with wonder and
possibility and I know I have only my family and friends to thank
for helping me believe in myself.