I was optimistic. I was ready to be in the nation's capital, not only to witness history unfold but to simultaneously analyze it within a historical context. I wanted this semester to be the semester — the one where I would finally explore all of D.C. (long overdue as a Northern Virginia native). The semester where I would begin crafting myself into the person I’ve always envisioned: waking up at 7 a.m., going on runs, interning, cooking my own meals, finishing my work ahead of deadlines and getting a full eight hours of sleep each night. I had mapped out my ideal version of myself, and it felt like this was the time and place for me to finally transform into her.
But reality swiftly settled in, and I realized that this “perfect” version of Kirsten couldn’t coexist with the one living in this current reality. Suddenly, I was being pulled in countless different directions. Baltimore called to me, reminding me of the friends, professors and mentees I’d left behind. Virginia, being so close to D.C., called as well, where my family was. D.C. itself beckoned too, with its endless networking events and parties. And in the middle of all this, I found myself trying to tune out the noise, striving to focus on the experience I had envisioned. Even when I wasn’t actively trying to silence the distractions, Dr. Reynolds, director of the Hopkins Semester in D.C., reminded us to tune them out. "Remember, you’re studying abroad,” “Pretend like you're in Paris!" she’d say.
Yet, the pull was too strong. I found myself riding the MARC train back to Baltimore Penn Station or taking the VRE down to Woodbridge more often than I would’ve liked, all in the name of maintaining the relationships I’d already built. But while I was maintaining those bonds, I was simultaneously stunting the ones I could have been fostering with my fellow program mates in D.C. In my attempt to be everywhere, I really was nowhere. My desire to keep up with my past relationships kept me from fully engaging in the present.
So, I decided to be present. I joined in on the non-required activities and tried that cute coffee spot on the way to class. I said yes to walking around the National Mall at night, taking in the city lights and late-night conversations, and staying up for game nights that stretched into the early hours. For a while, it felt like I was finally here — fully present in D.C.
That was until I finally landed an interview. Up until this point, I had been searching desperately for an internship, feeling behind and comparing myself to my peers who had secured roles at places like the White House, think tanks and media. When I went into an interview with the Democratic Party of Virginia, I thought I was interviewing for an internship role. I came out with an offer for a position that had “Director” in the title. And, of course, I said yes. I had to.
I could not pretend like I was in Paris anymore. I was commuting regularly from D.C. to Annandale, working in the campaign office, making calls and knocking on doors, even on weekends. It quickly became overwhelming, but I didn’t care — I had landed the gig of a lifetime. Working on such a historical campaign was something I never imagined would actually happen, and yet, here I was!
Once again, back to square one. Tired, stressed, removed from the friends I just started to connect with. Naturally, I’ve felt guilty for how much time I’ve spent away, but at the same time, I’ve received so much support from friends, professors and family. I try not to dwell on the guilt, recalling that this is all part of the experience. I can’t help but notice a pattern. Every time I promise myself I’ll slow down, be present and enjoy the moment, life pulls me in another direction.
My stress was set to "end" on November 6th, but I’m already filling my time up with more responsibilities and opportunities. It’s as if I don’t know how to just be still, constantly chasing the next goal, the next experience, the next big thing. And while I’m incredibly grateful for the roles I’ve taken on and the lessons I’ve learned along the way, there’s this lingering question in the back of my mind: can I ever just let myself be?
This semester has taught me so much about how easy it is to lose sight of presence in the pursuit of ambition. I find myself thinking about how to create a life where I don’t have to choose between them, where I can thrive in my ambition while also making space to pause, breathe, and appreciate the world around me. For now, I’m still figuring that out. But maybe that’s the point. And perhaps, in this realization, I'm already closer to that ideal version of myself than I thought.
Kirsten Amematsro is a sophomore from Dumfries, Va. studying International Studies and Political Science.
