Autobiography for the Past and Future

College– etymologically derived from Collegium; Col (together with) + legare (depute) is defined as “an institution of higher studies” but there is more than just that which makes a college what it is. A college is incomplete without a student body; an unlikely group of people forming a community that adds life and purpose to this skeleton called College.

College is an unusual stage of life. Remember the word unlikely, I’ll mention it later. In August 2021 I entered my new life struggling to hold on to the leftover parts of Hope. Whatever happened to her?? Well…

[Dateline]: In an unexpected stampede of Immaturities at Adolescence, from age 10 to 17, casualties were recorded. Heart sustained fractures and lacerations in several places, but will recover, although, with visible scars. Hope is handicapped but on the way to full recovery.

Hope was chasing behind Heart who ran loose on the scene, becoming a victim of the stampede.

The Brain has issued a press release stating immediate damage-control measures would be taken.

[End of Report]

By 17, I was almost convinced I would never belong anywhere, never be understood, accepted or even liked. I had stood in the frontlines of the war with Inhibition and lost because I did not have the manpower I thought I needed. Life established that loyalty, understanding and solidarity were non-existent for me as if my life was a bitter satire on Human Relationships but Hope, crippled but very much alive, travelled with me into the portals of this College.

Life is about growth, and my partial growth was marked by the realisation that it is never healthy to give your all, never healthy to entirely unzip your skin and expect everyone to unzip too. I learnt that a healthy distance in life is always good because you learn to trust yourself and still have hope for better things. That way, you don’t have expectations and let Heart run loose into the stampede of emotions. This revelation helped me embrace this new community, leaving Cynicism at the doorstep.

College is an unusual stage of life, especially when it is a haven held up by the spirit of sisterhood. Each woman comes from a different walk of life but busts the myth of “toxicity” in female friendships forming unlikely camaraderie. Despite the chance to build a whole new identity for myself, under their protection I let myself blossom to be unapologetically me.

The existence of a ‘funny bone’ in my body was detected shortly after, catching me flabbergasted. When a brief chuckle or laughter echoed through the groups at the silly jokes I slipped in, I got excited. I am still not used to the idea that I don’t make ‘lame’ jokes as I was made to believe and that I am actually witty.

Seeing the overt flirtatious cheering of one girl on another that spreads through the college like an epidemic, one would think they’re all family. I hear lovely compliments on my makeup, style, and my character, in place of those juvenile, denigrating comments on body weight and my un-Voguesque features and for a brief moment, I feel like the main character.

**This character has been carefully curated with the image of the funny-wine-mom-friend in mind. Please note that the audience's response to this character is a collateral bonus of a self-improvement project. **

Long Live female friendships.

My adoption into a group began with a friend’s birthday. This tiny group comes with its own flaws, but it is still mine. As a child, starry-eyed me would listen to Mum talk of her college days. Stills of "bunking classes and sitting in the dried-up gutters with friends" would flash through my brain like a 90s coming-of-age film. With hopes of constructing friendships like those, I began my poor attempts at socialising. It wasn’t until the end of my second year and the beginning of my third that I managed to win the trust of a handful, however, that required yet again standing at the frontlines. This time, it was to face Inhibition alone and brave, not with hopes of a cavalry behind me. For the very first time, I was comfortable loving people without labels.

I have come to believe that curiosity for people around us unlocks an inner world capable of creating unity in what we know as the material world. This is thanks to my conversations during free hours with classmates and batchmates I haven’t spoken beyond the surface to before. These back and forths spurred another revelation: Inhibition’s wars and the stampedes in Adolescence were not tragedies only I faced. Almost all those I spoke with had shut their vulnerabilities within themselves after heartbreaks in love and friendships during their teenage years.

The brave soldiers with wounds from the good old-fashioned war–

a war with the self.

a rite of passage for every teenager.

College is an unusual stage of life, where you heal, learn, and love again. Some bloom in the student community, in the maturing shelter of war veterans, the young adults, while others take a lot more time to reconcile with themselves, still on the battleground. My only prayer for them is that they do heal someday, and learn to open their hearts to love, but with ample protective gear.

Because healing has no age limit. Just as eligibility for being a college student has no age limit.

(Cover image credit: Sarah Dandelion Cray)