In becoming who we are, it is important to never lose sight
of who we were.
Each of us has a unique identity, which we have built on a
foundation of experiences and our own unique personality traits. In my age
group, that foundation is what we gained through the years of childhood,
adolescence, and early adulthood. Much of it is from our parents and our peers,
both from school and from home. As we go onward, we build off that foundation
as we each strive to become who we want to be.
Moving to another country and another culture that is so
vastly different from your own rips you away from your own foundations. Instead
of figuring out what project I was going to do to get that next publication, I
was figuring out how to get 20L of water up a steep hill and back to my hut.
Instead of finding the right graduate program, I was finding ways to get men to
leave me alone. Instead of being surrounded by friends and family with all the
comforts and conveniences of home, I lay awake late at night either freezing or
sweating and hoping a snake wouldn’t crawl into bed while I slept. When I
graduated from Butler, the biggest parts of my identity were my ambition,
determination, work ethic, discomfort at being alone (for any length of time),
a need for acceptance, and terrifying uncertainty about the future. I was shy
personally and confident professionally. I knew what I wanted, but not
necessarily how to get it. I wasn’t very happy, and felt that I was always
being overshadowed by others. I wanted things I saw in my friends but couldn’t
just have (money, a nice phone, vacations overseas), and it made me petty and
jealous. In short, I was a mess.
No one tells you that most of what you do in the Peace Corps
is nothing. At first, I used that nothingness to cry alone in my hut and write
sad letters home on my laptop. Next, I used it to watch movies and a whole lot
of tv. Eventually, I decided to use it to learn to meditate. The experiences
that I have had here make me realize not only how precious my natural gifts
are, but how precious the gifts of the Western world are. I have had an
education that taught me critical thinking, typing, logic, and career planning.
I have a family that has never said no, and from which I rarely asked
permission (“Mom, I am going to
Mexico over spring break to build a community center in an area that the US
State Department explicitly states not to travel to). I also have a family that
fought to make sure that I was given the nutrition I needed, the best education
available, and the independence to form my own opinions. I have friends that
sometimes love me unconditionally for exactly who I am, but other times are not
afraid to call me out when I get lost in self-pity, drama, or bad habits. In
both high school and college, I found mentors who built up my confidence,
self-esteem, and skill sets. It took a long time and many hours of meditation,
but I have realized that I truly am one of the luckiest people in the world.
When I went back to America to see Connor graduate, my
negative foundation had been ripped away and replaced with a positive mental
state gained through hard work and introspection. Even though the positive was
a vast improvement, I felt that I had lost touch with who I was. Every
experience and every action in my life has made me who I am, and I like who I
am, so I needed to find a way to take the good with the bad. Getting back to my
family and friends allowed me to step back into the place that I had left, and
it was much needed.
Many people had changed, but the relationships all felt
exactly the same. My little baby brother had turned into a young man with
opinions and dreams and goals. My other younger brother has been working hard
to figure out where he is going next, and I admired his steadfast determination
to not settle for anything less than what he wants. My parents seemed very much
the same, which was more comforting than I could have imagined. My friends who
have graduated have moved on in the world of work or graduate school, and the
ones who haven’t are a year closer to being thrown into the adult world. All my
friends, however, welcomed me with open arms and made me feel that distance is
nothing when love is strong. All these relationships helped me to rediscover
who I was, and I took her (and all her faults, insecurities, and ambitions)
back to Swaziland with me.
I am becoming who I want to be, and getting back to the
people who have shaped and empowered me my whole life helped me to move further
along that journey. Getting back to America was exactly what I needed. Even
though I can’t get my passion tea lemonade at Starbucks anymore and some song
called Happy is driving everyone nuts and I haven’t heard any of the songs
featured in Glee season 5, it is my home. It is a part of me. It is who I was
and a part of who I will be.
The journey of self-discovery is very personal and is unique
to each individual. I had lost sight of who I was, and I have found her again.
When I finish my service in Swaziland, I won’t be done growing, but the growth
that I have made while here will have been worth every hot, cold, stressful,
boring hour of the journey.
