Usually writing a blog for me is easy, fun even. If you get me going, you might just think I love to hear myself talk. I have an opinion on just about everything and I often find myself rambling on for minutes on end, which is also a habit my boyfriend likes to make fun of during 90 percent of our FaceTime calls. Today however, I stared at this blank page on my MacBook Air for…let me check, yes, about 45 five minutes, at a loss for words. I tried to think of some defining moment I’ve had lately that shook up my whole world and changed me as a person. I drew a blank. And then it hit me, defining moments are few and far between, and honestly most of your daily life is mundane unless you do something about it. Thus, the topic of my blog was born: recently, I’ve had a change in perspective about my ability to change my own perspective.

Alright hold up, pause the blog. I know you must be thinking “What is this last-minute, B.S. tongue-twister she just pulled out of her butt?” Trust me, I’m going somewhere with this. All my life I’ve said “everything happens for a reason,” I preached that line like I was the Pope in Rome. Well, until recently. I do think that you can find ‘reason’ in anything that happens, in the sense that, A) you succeed, accomplish your goal, better yourself—no complaints there, or B) you fail, and in that case it becomes a foundation to build off of as you learn from past mistakes. But what I don’t believe in anymore, is the way some people use the word, implying that fate is steering your course through life. 

I believe that where you wind up is a reflection of how hard you worked to be there. How dare you blame fate for screwing up your chances? She gets thrown under the bus too often. There’s always a choice—to take a break or keep training, to defy something you don’t agree with or to conform, to step out of your comfort zone or to play it safe. And that choice is yours to make. 

First semester, I’ll be honest, I really did struggle at the beginning. I didn’t do so well on a couple of my first exams. I had friends, but not the tight-knit, family kind I had in high school. I was overwhelmed with all of the other things I had to take care of all by myself, thinking about how much I must have taken for granted when I lived at home. I struggled. I tried to find a reason why this was happening to me. Notice how I said “to me.” I played the victim. I tried to blame the school, the people, and basically every aspect of my life here, but there wasn’t enough evidence to place the big, fat “guilty” label on any of them. Until finally, I looked in the mirror, and what do you know, the finger of blame, clear as day, pointing directly down at me. 

At some point last semester, which I can’t pinpoint because I didn’t have some life-changing event that sparked this epiphany, I realized if I wanted my life here to be different, I’d have to take that into my own hands. I studied harder, reached out to new people, and started managing my time more efficiently. Nobody had forced me to isolate myself in my dorm room, the Professors hadn’t been writing unfair tests, it was up to me to step up to the plate. 

As soon as I stopped pitying myself, started being more positive and genuinely made an effort, the rest followed close behind. It’s not as easy as saying, “just don’t be sad anymore,” and life does love to throw the unexpected at you. But if you really analyze your current situation, I’m sure that you will find it has a whole lot to do with your own outlook on life, and how you choose to spend your time, and those are things you do have control over. 

I wound up turning my whole situation around. I found a group of girls I can be my authentic self with and signed a lease to live with them next year. I became a more diligent student, finishing with a 3.6 GPA. I can now say without a shadow of a doubt that I made the right choice choosing this university. And thank god I did choose this university, because it has taught me not to wait for a change or some sort of epic revelation, but instead to go create it for myself.