I DID THAT

3.41

That is my final college GPA. Some will think it's average, some will think it's pretty good, some will see it as just a number, and some will never care. For me, it'll always serve as a reminder--to continue, to keep going, to persevere.

After the spring semester of my sophomore year, my GPA dropped below a 3.0 and I lost my HOPE scholarship. Hear me out--I'm not degrading anyone who has/had a GPA lower than a 3.0, but I've always set a particular standard for myself in the field of academia. I've had important and high academic goals, and losing HOPE was not something I could truly afford. I knew why I had done poorly in school--I let my mental health deteriorate to the point that I didn't try anymore. Every time I failed a test, I had a severe breakdown, and instead of seeking help, I just continued down a dark spiral.

My first therapist appointment was April 26, 2018. It was the day after my 20th birthday. About a week or two later is when I got my grades for the semester and the email about HOPE. I was told I could earn HOPE back one more time, so I had to make some decisions and do some serious self-analysis. Why am I unhappy in school? What is going to help make me happy? What is going to interest me? How am I going to overcome all of this?

The summer before my fall semester I spent a good portion of my time in Counseling and Psychological Services. I went to personal counseling every week to every other week, and I involved myself in group therapy that met several times throughout the summer. I was determined to learn how to take care of myself, but more importantly, I was determined to become friends with myself. I didn't know if I'd ever love myself, but I felt strongly about wanting to like the girl I saw in the mirror. I thought if I learned to like something then that might just be enough. To my lucky surprise, I fell in love with the imperfectly beautiful mess that I am.

That same summer I also changed my major to English, and that fall I had never been happier in school. I worked hard, and I asked for help when I needed it. I ended the fall 2016 semester with a 4.0, made President's List, and earned my HOPE Scholarship back. If ever there was a time I was proud of myself and my hard work, it was the day all my grades went in. I remember crying tears of joy and thanking God for his mercies and guidance. Today, is another day of humbly being proud of myself. I know I am not the smartest person out there. I'm not the best writer or editor or student. I'm just a passionate girl who tries, and that means more to me than anyone will ever know.

For a moment, I thought I was hopeless after my spring 2016 semester. Really, I thought I was even more hopeless during it. It's hard to remember those feelings and that girl I once was. I wish I could go back and give her a hug, and tell her how smart and beautiful and kind and loved she truly is. I hope that girl never gets lost--I'll hold onto her as a keepsake and a reminder that I am worth so much more than I ever gave myself credit for before. I worked hard to get where I am today, and I will keep working hard for the rest of my life.