Coming into my second semester of junior year, I began to feel… lost.
It seemed as though everyone around me was becoming successful. To my left there were producers, and classmates who secured amazing internships and to my right were people releasing their first film via their own production companies.
Yet, there I was. Sitting in my room trying to find any organization, internship, or local job that would take me.
This was a huge knock to my ego.
All through high school I was very successful. I graduated amongst the top of my class, I had plenty of good friends, and I was a member of many organizations. I was even voted the president of my favorite school club for three consecutive years.
But, at college, things were different.
My grades fluctuated with the months and my friends often came and went with the years. It felt like no matter what I did, nothing stuck.
As January rolled around and I started to beat myself up about my lack of involvement and my ever disappointing resume. Sure I had written for a few on campus publications, and I had an article featured in a local paper, but unless I wanted to become a professional cake decorator for Hannaford, nothing on my one page work summary really stood out or put me ahead of the crowd.
And to be blunt, this sucked, and I spiralled into a minor depression; something I had experienced many times throughout my three years at Emerson.
I felt like I couldn't get out of my own way and as if there was no point in trying because I wouldn't succeed anyway.
But then I sat and thought.
While my resume was not very impressive for an Emerson student, it does not define me.
The singular page of white paper with black print does not determine who I am or how successful I am going to be once I leave this campus.
What defines me are my actions and my passions; not a list of jobs or positions I have held over the years.
What defines me is my ability to overcome crippling anxiety and depression holding me back from living at college my freshman year.
What defines me is my ability to say I commuted 2 hours to school each day and STILL was able to write regular articles for a newspaper and play on a quidditch team my first semester; no matter how short lived both experiences were.
What defines me is my ability to leave an abusive relationship that I was stuck in for almost a year, and my ability to speak out and educate others on signs of abuse in their own relationships.
What defines me is how I have been able to handle two straight years of loss. First the traumatic death of my grandfather, then within months losing my suitemate to suicide my first semester of living at college. Then junior year it was my death of my cat immediately followed by the death of my best friend's younger brother. All incidents that pulled me out of class and out of school for extended periods of time. All of which ended me in therapy for countless hours, and struggling to keep my grades alive at a time when everything else was dying. Yet none of these defeated me. I overcame these struggles and I ended up on the dean's list and with better grades than I had seen in months.
What defines me is how despite feeling as though the world is against me and begging me to fail, I continue to push on and try new things. I apply to jobs, I get rejected. I apply to new jobs, and I work constantly; I write, I draw, I study, and I look at the world in new ways. I am not my anxiety. I am not my depression. I am a student.
What defines me is not this list of things I have done.
What defines me is this list of things I have overcome.
Sure maybe right now I don't have a high position at an Emerson organization, and I don't have a reel of film that would rival Spielberg himself.
But the life lessons I have are worth more to me and to life than any impressive title could be.
And they WILL get me to where I need to be- just maybe not in the conventional way.
So to those of you out there who also feel as though they don't have what it takes to make it at this school or in life; don't let your resume define you.
You are worth more than that piece of paper.
You are worth more than you're told.
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