High school was an interesting time for everyone. Many look back on those years with fondness, and some may even wish to go back. For me, it was anything but “interesting.” It was completely and utterly average. But so was I. Wake up too early, spend too many hours in class, share short conversations with peers, participate in a competitive sport, stay at school way too late, go home, do schoolwork, repeat. Over and over again.
May of 2022 came around, and it was finally time to have that oh-so-magical moment of walking across the graduation stage. However, it didn’t end up feeling magical. I walked off that stage feeling under accomplished, under fulfilled and worst of all, underestimated.
After that moment, I decided my undergrad experience was going to be anything but average. I was—and still am—determined to give this experience 100 percent at all times, to ensure I don’t walk the stage in a few weeks feeling the way I did crossing that small-town graduation stage four years ago. Little did I know that this task would turn me into a chronic “over booker.” Just to add fuel to that flame, the only trait I wasn’t able to shake from high school was my crippling need to “people please.”
Like many others, I had some personal expectations and preconceived notions going into college. I quickly had the stomach-dropping realization that it wasn’t going to be as easy as I hoped. My parents also had some “hopes” or expectations for me and my time at Northern. They never directly expressed those expectations—not in black and white—but over time, they just became subconscious affiliations. I wanted nothing more than to meet and exceed them. Unfortunately, my mindset shifted to “good is not good enough,” and the thrill of validation became all-consuming.
Parent number one wished for me to achieve academic excellence and gain a broad understanding of the “real world” post-graduation. Academics have been my biggest challenge as well as my greatest triumph. Book smarts did not come naturally to me, nor did the ability to study. As a result, I spend hours a day focused on my academics and have made them my utmost priority—and I’ve had great success. My hard work earned me general honors status, initiation into a national honor society and strong relationships with my professors. You might be thinking, “Maggie, that is so great,” and it is. But it has also become common knowledge that grades alone are not enough for employers.
To add to those hours of studying and attending lectures, I have started and completed three internships in hopes of making an impact in the local journalism scene and setting myself apart from other candidates. My free time continues to shrink. Internships are amazing, but the pay is not—so you know what that means: get a proper job. So that’s what I did. Once again, my free time shrinks a little more. Classes, studying, internship tasks and a quick shift at work seem like a productive day—but those are simply my responsibilities “on paper.”
Parent number two wished for me to find social success and form a sense of personal identity. I had never had a truly solid group of friends or a best friend who cared for me the way I cared for them. When older generations reflect on their years in school, they always talk about their friends, their social lives or the crazy adventures they went on. I have made the friends of my lifetime and found a best friend who will be by my side for many years to come.
However, as simple as that may sound, I still struggle at times because my academics almost always come first. I already have moments I look back on and regret not participating because I feared missing class or falling behind. To have good friends, you need to be a good friend, and to be a good friend, you need to be present. The “people pleaser” in me makes sure my friends know they are always a priority, even if that means setting a lunch date two weeks in advance or sacrificing another part of my daily to-do list. My free time shrinks again.
Outside of my social circle, I am active in three student organizations that also get a fair share of my time and energy throughout the week. My free time shrinks again.
An average day for me, Monday through Friday, begins at 6:40 a.m. and ends at 10:30 p.m. I am grateful to be willing and able to accomplish so much in a day and still have time to eat lunch and get a few hours of sleep. Thankfully, I’m now in a position where I can look back and confidently think I have exceeded the expectations that have been looming over me for the last four years. As much of a relief as that is, I now stand eye-to-eye with the questions: What do I want? What am I willing to step back from to do what I want?
After all of my sacrifices and hard work for others, I decided that this semester, more than anything, I want to prioritize my mental and physical well-being. As a result, my free time shrinks again. But this time, that shrink feels different—it feels good. Because for the first time, that shrinking is selfishly for me. Whether that means sneaking in an hour at the gym or staying awake an extra 30 minutes on a school night to work on my craft, it feels right.
I’ve learned to love this lifestyle of constantly being on the move, always having a due date or a night out with friends around the corner. But what I’ve learned to love most is my new way of thinking. I no longer feel average, and I take pride in knowing that this new feeling is entirely self-made. I plan to confidently walk across the stage in May with a little more pep in my step, knowing I tried my best.
