The Beginning of the End
Ambivalent. I would describe my concluding days of summer as ambivalent. As I sit here at the beginning of my nine hour layover in Denver before my last ever summer time flight to Cedar Rapids, I am consumed by ambivalence. I am not going to lie, I actually didn’t even know this word existed/what it meant until five minutes ago when I googled “what is a word that means both happy and sad?” Regardless, I feel ambivalent.
I have never been so simultaneously eager and apprehensive about a year of school EVER. Freshman Jessy was 60% excitement and 40 % nerves (okay, I lied, 99% nerves). Sophomore year Jessy was 100% enthusiastic and confident. Junior year Jessy was 100% pumped and thrilled. Senior year Jessy is equally as somber as she is ecstatic. 50/50. Happy and sad. Although it sounds silly, I honestly never want this year of college to begin because I never want it to end. The faster I’m back at Coe, the faster I move in, the faster I reunite with my friends and teammates turned family, the faster I step foot on the soccer field and in the classroom, the faster my life resumes as a student-athlete, the faster my time within Coe’s bubble will come to a close.
It’s as if I’m already dreading the goodbyes and transitions to come without even living out the year ahead. Every flash of a memory or glimpse of an old picture is followed by a tear and fear knowing that this time next year I won’t be able to take on the crazy beautiful chaos of Coe and college. Who will I be if I’m not a student or soccer player? How will I manage to excel post-grad? Will I ever achieve my dreams? If not, how do I know when the right time is to give up on them? Where will I live? What will I do? Coe’s bubble is so cozy and warm. No threats. Nothing alarming. There are soccer games under the stadium lights in the crisp fall air. There are social gatherings that witness the night crickets turn to morning birds. There is learning and amazing mentors and professors who double as friends. There are concerts and activities and school-wide events. There is school spirit and happiness and love. There are clubs and academics which stimulate your brain and allow you to adapt, develop, and grow. There are roommates and movie nights and dance parties. There is shenanigans, risks, and daring. I like the Coe bubble. I want to stay awhile. Unfortunately for me, “awhile” means four years, despite my inclination to stay beyond my welcome.
So how does someone who knows they struggle with “closing the yearbook” live their best senior year ever? Good question. If I knew, I guess I wouldn’t be having this problem. However, if I’ve learned anything from the graduates above me it’s that the seasons of life are always on time. So while I may not be ready to leave Coe and my identity as a student-athlete, while I may be scared for my life post-grad and leaving the Coe bubble, while my heart might be breaking right now just thinking about May 2019, that is A-OK. I am not supposed to be ready to move on at this very moment in time. I still have 10 months of growth, learning, and morphing to do. I still have 10 months of parties, late night roomie talks, and dances to attend. I still have 10 months of coffee at 2a.m., homework that challenges my knowledge, and workouts that stretch my muscles. I still have 10 months under the stadium lights and team bonding. I am not ready to move on right now because I am not supposed to be ready to move on. That’s the key. That is how I will strive to live my best year yet.
Instead of dreading the future and graduation like I am right now, instead of sitting in sadness at the airport because of how fast this year is going to fly by, and instead of thinking 10 months ahead, I need to hold onto the fact that Coe does not produce graduates pre-mature. The conclusion of a college career arrives when it does for a reason. Come May, I will be ready. We will be ready. For the past four years we have worked and dedicated our lives to our school and sports and social life. We have evolved as students. We have scored winning goals. We have made new best friends. We have taken risks. We have failed. We have learned. We have succeeded. We have changed. We have become the humans we once envisioned for ourselves. When I walk across that stage in May, when we walk across that stage in May, we will be more than ready, prepared, and equipped to take the world by storm. Coe expects nothing less...and neither do I.
“Bloom where you are planted.” These are the words my mom said to me as we parted ways at the beginning of my freshman year. In 2015, I planted my seed. In 2016, I began to sprout. In 2017, I was a bud. In 2018, my petals began to bloom. In 2019, I will blossom. I will soak up the sunshine and all the opportunities that lay ahead. I will water myself with positive friendships and laughter and fun. I will feed my flower soul with knowledge and work ethic in the classroom and on the field. I still have 10 months to blossom. I still have 10 months to grow.
Come May when my flower is fully grown and strong, I will be faced with the challenge of a new garden—fresh soil to plant my seed. Lucky for me—lucky for us—Coe has given all the tools we need to succeed.
But until then—until those 10 months come to a close—let’s go out there and have a kick booty senior year. Okay? Okay.
I have never been so simultaneously eager and apprehensive about a year of school EVER. Freshman Jessy was 60% excitement and 40 % nerves (okay, I lied, 99% nerves). Sophomore year Jessy was 100% enthusiastic and confident. Junior year Jessy was 100% pumped and thrilled. Senior year Jessy is equally as somber as she is ecstatic. 50/50. Happy and sad. Although it sounds silly, I honestly never want this year of college to begin because I never want it to end. The faster I’m back at Coe, the faster I move in, the faster I reunite with my friends and teammates turned family, the faster I step foot on the soccer field and in the classroom, the faster my life resumes as a student-athlete, the faster my time within Coe’s bubble will come to a close.
It’s as if I’m already dreading the goodbyes and transitions to come without even living out the year ahead. Every flash of a memory or glimpse of an old picture is followed by a tear and fear knowing that this time next year I won’t be able to take on the crazy beautiful chaos of Coe and college. Who will I be if I’m not a student or soccer player? How will I manage to excel post-grad? Will I ever achieve my dreams? If not, how do I know when the right time is to give up on them? Where will I live? What will I do? Coe’s bubble is so cozy and warm. No threats. Nothing alarming. There are soccer games under the stadium lights in the crisp fall air. There are social gatherings that witness the night crickets turn to morning birds. There is learning and amazing mentors and professors who double as friends. There are concerts and activities and school-wide events. There is school spirit and happiness and love. There are clubs and academics which stimulate your brain and allow you to adapt, develop, and grow. There are roommates and movie nights and dance parties. There is shenanigans, risks, and daring. I like the Coe bubble. I want to stay awhile. Unfortunately for me, “awhile” means four years, despite my inclination to stay beyond my welcome.
So how does someone who knows they struggle with “closing the yearbook” live their best senior year ever? Good question. If I knew, I guess I wouldn’t be having this problem. However, if I’ve learned anything from the graduates above me it’s that the seasons of life are always on time. So while I may not be ready to leave Coe and my identity as a student-athlete, while I may be scared for my life post-grad and leaving the Coe bubble, while my heart might be breaking right now just thinking about May 2019, that is A-OK. I am not supposed to be ready to move on at this very moment in time. I still have 10 months of growth, learning, and morphing to do. I still have 10 months of parties, late night roomie talks, and dances to attend. I still have 10 months of coffee at 2a.m., homework that challenges my knowledge, and workouts that stretch my muscles. I still have 10 months under the stadium lights and team bonding. I am not ready to move on right now because I am not supposed to be ready to move on. That’s the key. That is how I will strive to live my best year yet.
Instead of dreading the future and graduation like I am right now, instead of sitting in sadness at the airport because of how fast this year is going to fly by, and instead of thinking 10 months ahead, I need to hold onto the fact that Coe does not produce graduates pre-mature. The conclusion of a college career arrives when it does for a reason. Come May, I will be ready. We will be ready. For the past four years we have worked and dedicated our lives to our school and sports and social life. We have evolved as students. We have scored winning goals. We have made new best friends. We have taken risks. We have failed. We have learned. We have succeeded. We have changed. We have become the humans we once envisioned for ourselves. When I walk across that stage in May, when we walk across that stage in May, we will be more than ready, prepared, and equipped to take the world by storm. Coe expects nothing less...and neither do I.
“Bloom where you are planted.” These are the words my mom said to me as we parted ways at the beginning of my freshman year. In 2015, I planted my seed. In 2016, I began to sprout. In 2017, I was a bud. In 2018, my petals began to bloom. In 2019, I will blossom. I will soak up the sunshine and all the opportunities that lay ahead. I will water myself with positive friendships and laughter and fun. I will feed my flower soul with knowledge and work ethic in the classroom and on the field. I still have 10 months to blossom. I still have 10 months to grow.
Come May when my flower is fully grown and strong, I will be faced with the challenge of a new garden—fresh soil to plant my seed. Lucky for me—lucky for us—Coe has given all the tools we need to succeed.
But until then—until those 10 months come to a close—let’s go out there and have a kick booty senior year. Okay? Okay.