Who Are You?

A few weeks ago, I met with a professor at Florida State in an attempt to receive guidance. What I got was so much more.

I had never spoken to him directly before, but had heard such phenomenal things about him, so I was eager to meet him. I went into his office with an open mind, hoping to leave with a clear decision about what major I wanted to pursue. His office was homey with pictures of his family scattered across his stuffed bookshelves. His desk was cluttered with hand-written Post-It notes and stacks of papers that looked oh-so important. I felt slightly intimidated, but extremely excited. I had thought that he’d introduce himself or ask me what I’d needed help with. Instead, our encounter went like this:

Him: Who are you? 

Me: Hi. I’m Helena and I’m a junior in the Editing, Writing, and–

Him: No, no, no. I didn’t ask what your name is. I asked, ‘Who are you?’ 

He cut me off guard, to say the least. I scrambled for a better answer as my face started to flush hot pink. I didn’t have time to respond.

Him: Okay, let me rephrase that. Why are you here? 

I told him that I was looking for guidance on my major, my internship, my classes, my future in general. I was honestly so confused. I looked around, thinking I might be in the wrong place. He was putting me in such an uncomfortable spot; I had never had to think about these things in such an uncomfortable setting.

After a few minutes of awkward conversation, he told me he wanted to get to my core; he wanted to understand what kind of person I was. Despite the fact that I was extremely caught off-guard and red in the face, I almost enjoyed the hard-hitting questions. I liked thinking about my future because I am always worrying about it. The not-knowing is what gives me anxiety.

Him: What are your passions? What do you do in your free time? What drives you to succeed? What makes you you? 

I was absorbing his every word. With each pounding question, I asked myself, “Who am I?” If I don’t know, who does?

As I sat in his office, it dawned on me: I didn’t know who I was. And this realization terrified me.

I had always seen myself as the crazy girl, the one that no one understood. I loved meeting people, but hated walking up to people I didn’t know. I loved working, but hated monotonous jobs. I loved writing, but only when it encouraged creativity. I loved being organized, but hated cleaning my room. I loved mornings, but hated getting up early. I was a walking contradiction.

His incredibly blunt questions pushed me outside my limits; they encouraged me to reach inside myself and discover who I was. And ever since that first encounter with that professor weeks ago, I have been trying to figure that out.

He encouraged me to start this blog. And even though it’s taken me weeks, I finally did it. This is my first step in discovering who I am.

Thank you for coming along for the ride. It’ll be a bumpy one.


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