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I’ve switched schools every two years since sixth grade, and every time I find myself in a new community, I tried to reinvent myself or change the way that others perceive me. It wasn’t until I came to Hotchkiss that I realized how much my hyper-awareness was making me miserable.
When I moved from Bermuda to Philadelphia at eleven years old, I thought that I could shed my annoying, childish self and take on a more “mature” appearance. I quickly figured out that the “cool” middle-schooler was good at sports, was constantly bubbly, and wore pink velour Juicy Couture hoodies, so I kept my true artistic interests separate from school. None of my peers knew what to make of dance or theatre—the arts were not as acknowledged. So, I continued to follow trends all throughout middle school, while dabbling in the activities that seemed to be widely accepted, such as volleyball and softball. By the time I moved back to Bermuda at the end of eighth grade, I had transformed from an average, goofy child to a too-skinny, “chill” teenager.
Though I moved back to my old school for the first two years of high school, this once familiar environment seemed foreign. One friend told me that I “changed when [I was] in America”, and I realized that everyone and everything seemed to be exactly the same as when I moved away; I had transformed so drastically that I could not even recognize it in myself. During the first few months that I was back in Bermuda, I struggled to retain the same persona that my friends were used to, and quickly discovered that my middle school efforts to change myself had actually worked— it was impossible to return to my original image. For two more years, I was unhappy with who I had become, though I began to dedicate more time to pursuing my true interests. I stopped trying to be proficient at sports and began to immerse myself in dance and theatre, because it was only when I was doing what I love that I didn’t care what people thought about me. Nevertheless, I would go to school accompanied by the same insecurities every day, and by my second year back in Bermuda, I was looking for a way out.
The choice to attend boarding school was the first decision about transferring schools that had been entirely my own, and not because of my mother’s job. When I finally chose Hotchkiss, I promised myself that I would abandon my desire to be liked by everyone and talented in every aspect of my life; I would use this opportunity to pursue my interests in the arts and actually have my hard work celebrated, and to stop caring about how others perceived me. Inevitably, though, old anxieties set in almost as soon as I arrived. For the first two months, I agonized over whom I would become friends with and what impression I had made. It wasn’t until I went home for Thanksgiving Break and realized that I had once again changed, though this time unknowingly, that I began to accept that as a young adult, I will naturally change over time. I have come to acknowledge that the only way that I can truly become comfortable with who I am is not to change my appearance, but to change my perspective. Once I consciously made the decision to have a more positive outlook on life, I realized that it was my identity that had changed, rather than my image. My identity is something that I can be in complete control of; it shapes who I am as a person.
PC: Olivia Gee
