I’d like to think that I’ve done many hard things in life: I moved to a new country; I learned to speak English fluently in a household that did not; I got accepted into the college of my dreams as a first generation student. But learning to love myself was the hardest thing I’ve ever learned to do.
Looking through my favorites, it’s easy to think of my bookshelf as a biography. In reality, it is a mirror. Each time you revisit a book, a small trace of yourself gets snagged between the lines, the smudges accumulating like heights marked on the walls of a childhood home.
I think people spend too much time talking about who they want to be and not enough time talking about who they already are. It’s always about the next step; the next goal; the next milestone. Nobody ever asks, “What’s your favorite thing about yourself today?”
Through my veins runs a liquid similar to everyone else's, but as a Philadelphia Eagles fan, the sustenance has a unique color and composition we sum up as “green.”
As I approach the end of my undergraduate career at Hopkins, I’m looking forward to new adventures and novelty. I wanted to share some recommendations for places that have become some of me and my friends’ favorite spots in the city, in hopes that they will help you explore and better acclimate to your new home.
If I had to define my life, I would choose to define it not by what I’ve accomplished, but rather by the books I’ve read. I’ve spent my whole life passing from one story to the next. To me, it isn’t a choice to pick up the next book but, rather, a need to consume words.