enjoying where I'm at

Over the past few months, I've felt unwarranted pressure from peers that I need to have my future figured out -- those who believe that my time in university is merely a means to some end destination. People around me say demeaning things like, "how many more years until she graduates..." and "we just need to wait until she makes it on her own...". These comments make me angry because they signal a lack of appreciation for the value and preciousness of the present moment.

...

As I alluded to in an earlier essay, I spent all of my teen years responding to the effects of massive trauma; most of my brain and body's energy was focused on survival. As a result, I have very few memories from my teen years. I don't remember my elementary school graduation, nor my high school graduation, and I have no idea how I jumped from being an elementary school student to a young adult living on her own. People disparage me for being "behind" others in a career sense, but I'm proud and amazed that I even made it this far.

...

I lost nearly 8 years of my life to trauma. So it feels inappropriate that people are judging me for trying to enjoy my time here -- something I wasn't able to do for so long. People ask me about the person I'll be in the future, but the most honest answer I can give to that is that I don't know. And there's a liberation in not knowing. If there's anything I've learned from my experiences, it's that nothing is certain; circumstances can change in an instant. I don't even know the person who I'll be tomorrow, the songs that will stir me, the memories that will warm my heart. I can't predict the person I'll be in a few days, much less a few months or a few years. The future is unknown and far from guaranteed, and all we truly have is the present.

...

The people I admire the most are the ones who understand life's impermanence, yet choose to pour their heart into it anyway; those who commit to loving people and embracing life with full intensity, despite knowing they'll lose it all in the end. My time at Waterloo is finite, and the years will pass faster than I think. One day, I'll no longer be blogging for SMILE Club; I'll no longer be able to listen to my psychology professor passionately talk about Existential Dissonance, or my East Asian studies professor ruefully admit that there's nothing we can hold onto. But that's all the reason for me to be fully present -- to be attuned to the environment and the people around me -- while I still can. Each moment only happens once, and I want to soak it all in. I want to notice and appreciate my experience of being alive in the world, even if I can't hold onto it in the end.