If you had asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would've always said "an author" until I was about 12 years old. After that, I would've answered "a teacher."
I can pinpoint the day I changed my mind again. I was about 15 years old, outside of my parents' house in the fall with my friend. Our Japanese Maple tree had lost a ton of leaves, but somehow still appeared full. My friend's hair was a gorgeous red, matching the leaves on the tree and the ground. I pulled out my camera and photographed her. It was in that moment I realized I wanted to take pictures for the rest of my life.
Fast forward to my senior year of high school. I was attending tech school for commercial art and loving it. I didn't want to go to college because I was already learning so much in high school. "I want to be a photographer, why do I need to go to college? It's so expensive. They will just teach me what I already know." Oh how naive I was back then.
After a push from my parents, I decided I should just go to college. I applied to a variety of places, but my heart was set on a two year school. My parents did not want me to pursue a photography degree, let alone attend a two year art school. "What if you change your mind? You'll have to change schools completely. Why don't you look at Arcadia again?"
I remember resenting my parents for pushing me to do this. All I wanted to do was attend Antonelli for two years and then start my photography career. I didn't want to attend an expensive four year school.
I visited Arcadia for a day, shadowing a student in the art department. I fell in love. The professors were incredible, the campus was gorgeous, and it felt like home. I knew that was where I needed to be.
Four years later, I graduated with a degree in Fine Arts, much to my parents' dismay. I spent those four years becoming involved in a variety of activities on campus. Student affairs became equally as, if not more, important than my Fine Arts degree, and I loved every minute of it.
I wasn't ready to leave. I cried, a lot, over the course of my senior year. I found solace in alcohol, an incredibly unhealthy coping mechanism, setting myself on a downward spiral of booze and casual sex for a few years. I was so upset I was leaving I found myself hammered at a bar the night before graduation, crying on the phone to my best friend who was in Italy. I almost missed my graduation, thanks to my addiction.
I was miserable for about a year and a half after that. Never quite fitting in where I worked. It always felt like something was missing. I was slowly drinking myself out of my mind and into a deeper depression. I had no idea what to do, I was lost and spiraling out of control.
Just when I thought it was all over, I received a call about an RC opening at Philadelphia University from an old friend and the rest is history.
2 years later, here I am: eight months sober, on the eve of graduating from a Student Affairs Master's program with a 3.93 GPA.
The girl who never thought she'd even attend college is about to get her M.Ed.
I'd like to think I chose this student affairs path, but honestly, it seems like this path chose me.
I've been lucky in many ways, but I've also worked my ass off to get where I am today. Thank you to everyone who has helped me along the way!
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