Five years ago, I was a scared kid, holding the anxious burden of headlines at my fingertips, feeling helpless and uncertain. Bundled up in the closet I had turned into a fort—decked out with fairy lights and fuzzy pillows—I sat still, waiting to see what would happen to the world before I could step outside again. I spent almost a year of high school there, online.
Back then, I thought I was sure where life was headed. I would graduate with honors and, that summer, head straight to my dream college: Temple University Japan, right in the heart of Tokyo. I imagined myself living my dream—thriving in a bustling city full of opportunity and excitement.
But just when you're certain of your “plan,” life takes a turn.
I did eventually emerge from that little fort in October, and I graduated the next year with honors, just as I had hoped. But instead of leaping into college, I took a gap year—to visit my grandpa with my mom and soak up all the memories we could with his diagnosis of dementia – a choice I’ve come to be extremely grateful for every day since his passing. For almost a year I worked as a barista, gaining “real world” experience.
During that year, I let the fear of not meeting other people’s expectations cloud how I viewed my own growth. Social media made it look like everyone else was on track, thriving, ticking every box. I wasn’t. I was “behind” feeling stuck in place at times. And that scared me.
It ultimately led me here, the following year, at the University of Guam. After everything –the aftermath of COVID, witnessing my grandpa navigate dementia, and the looming threat of my visa not arriving on time for me to pursue college– I realized, it affected me. I suddenly didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to move away from my family. And I certainly didn’t want my chance to finally begin, pass me by.
I’ve learned the only constant in life is struggle. That might sound pessimistic—but it’s not. Knowing that struggle is inevitable makes it less shameful. Everyone is going through something, even if they look like they have it all together. The trick is to get through the struggle by allowing yourself to forgive. Forgive yourself for the detours. For the timeline changes. That’s how you adapt. That’s how you grow.
In life, there is no set timeline, there’s no score being tracked by a huge chart at the end of all of this. Life is ever changing. I’m still figuring out what I want out of it.
But always new experiences emerge—new friendships, new paths, new outlooks. You find yourself in a cycle: discovering the “new,” glorifying it at first, then slowly realizing it for what it truly is. Sometimes it’s exciting. Sometimes it’s messy. But each time, it teaches you something. You begin to understand that change isn’t just a detour—it’s the road itself.
The power you hold lies within a newfound perspective of the actions you have taken. Life will steer you one way or another, and you will almost always have a moment where you will overthink or doubt your progress. Growing pains are natural – most often a sign pointed towards your worldview expanding– but how you adapt will lead you to evolving as a person. I've come to see unexpected change not as something to fear, but as something that leads me to new friendships, new experiences, and new perspectives.
Within our next issue, Triton’s Call tackles the question: what is the power in perspective?