“Come on, open the door,” I said, not sure of what to do.

I waited for him to move, but he stood his ground in front of the doorknob. It was past midnight, and I remained trapped in his room. I wondered how long I would remain here before our friends took notice of my sudden disappearance. Since I met him in October 2014, I called James* my friend. He was a “nice guy” who swore off casual sex, alcohol and drugs. He went out of his way to walk me home at night. He was incredibly polite. But as we became close friends, I began to see two very different sides to his personality.

At night, he sent me heartfelt text messages, but when we fought, he locked me in his room and refused to let me leave. He told me that he wanted the best for me, but when I rejected what I thought were his romantic advances and showed interest in someone else, James threatened to hurt himself.

He humiliated me when we were alone and shamed me, implying that I was easy, a slut and a whore.

Though our friendship had caught on quickly in the beginning, by January I felt trapped and helpless. Unfortunately, experiences like mine are incredibly common.

According to a study done in 2006 by the American Association of University Women Educational Foundation, nearly two-thirds of college students experience some type of sexual harassment. This can include physical harassment such as groping, non-contact forms of harassment like catcalling, and harassment through electronic messages. While the sexual harassment I experienced never left any physical scars or bruises, the criticism and judgment of my personality and sexuality chipped away at my feeling of safety and self-esteem.

The abusive behavior became my new normal.

But it took a sudden escalation for me to even realize I needed help. The texts came in at 11:34 p.m. on a Sunday while I studied in the MLC. James accused me of having sexual relations with his roommate. He explained that he had talked to the UGA police, filing a charge of simple battery against his roommate in retaliation for my “betrayal.” I denied the accusation, trying to get him to understand that his roommate and I were only friends but James refused to listen.

Instead, he went on a rant about how I broke his heart and texted the words, “I wanted to f*****g kill myself.”

He had made threats of suicide and self-harm often, but this time he took it further. He threatened to ruin my chances of having a career, to expose my private sexual history to everyone I knew, and to throw my friends in jail by reporting their drug and alcohol use to the police. After receiving those threatening texts, I spent three days locked in my dorm room. For all I knew, any friend seen with me could be his next target. Those three days gave me time to think, and I started to remember the person I used to be.

I headed down to the lobby of my residence hall and spilled the entire story for the first time to an adviser. The tears that came unexpectedly surprised me, and I was touched that the adviser took the time to listen and then drove me directly to RSVP, UGA’s Relationship and Sexual Violence Prevention center located within the University Health Center. There I told my story again, and the RSVP staff told me that I had been emotionally abused. James’s threats of suicide and self-harm were tactics used to manipulate me. His unpredictable behavior was textbook relationship abuse. The unwanted romantic advances fell under sexual harassment, and the unrelenting text messages he kept sending after I asked him to stop were a form of stalking.

The RSVP staff told me that with the text messages I saved on my phone, I could have a real case if I wanted to pursue it through the university system.

I thought this meant my battle against James would be over, but I was wrong. The process had only just begun.

Shortly after speaking with RSVP that day, I received an email telling me I had an appointment with the Equal Opportunity Office that Friday — Jan. 30. Though most UGA code of conduct violations are handled through the University Judiciary, cases like mine that have to do with Title IX are handled through a completely different system. I had presumed University Judiciary would handle my case. But searching online and through student handbooks and pamphlets, I learned that UGA’s Equal Opportunity Office handled issues like sexual harassment, sexual assault/rape, and discrimination because they fall under Title IX, the federal law that prohibits discrimination based on sex at federally funded educational institutions. I didn’t even know the EOO existed, let alone where it was.

I spent the spring semester of my freshman year writing email after email and playing phone tag with offices and departments I had only just discovered. In the midst of it all, friends and acquaintances deserted me once word of my decision to file a sexual assault complaint spread. Comments ranged from, “You need to drop it, you’re being childish” to “Someone like you who purposely seeks out bad relationships and then claims to be the victim should stop trying to feel sorry for yourself.”

I never imagined my friends would turn on me after hearing the entire story. I never thought my own parents would try to persuade me to let the case go because it was “too much trouble.” Whether or not I felt safe, schoolwork piled up, classes went on and I continued to jump through administrative hoops. No one told me how to handle this. No one ever told me that filing a sexual harassment complaint would leave me feeling frustrated, emotionally exhausted and utterly alone.

While the EOO issued a no contact order during its period of investigation, which started Feb. 13, 2015, James was not bound to that order by law. A professor suggested that I try calling the police, suggesting that a restraining order could give me some sort of safety. After all, James knew exactly where I lived. He knew where my sister and my parents lived. It wouldn’t be hard for him to find me. I initially called the Athens-Clarke County Police, who upon hearing my story, encouraged me to get a restraining order through the magistrate court. However, after realizing that I was a student, they had to ask where the harassment took place. It turns out, where and when I received these threats made a huge difference in whose jurisdiction I was under.

The ACCPD explained to me over the phone that since I received these threats over text while I was studying in the MLC, they couldn’t really help me. Going to the magistrate court for a restraining order while I wasn’t under the ACC PD’s jurisdiction would just complicate the entire process. Since I had received the threats while on campus, the officer I spoke to recommended that I report the harassment to the UGA Police. So I made another phone call, this time to the UGA Police. Initially, they seemed helpful, sending an officer to meet with me in the lobby of my residence hall immediately. The quick reaction made it feel like they were taking me seriously, like my well-being actually mattered. I felt validated, like everyone who worked to give my harasser an excuse was wrong.

I was standing up for myself. By going to the campus police, I thought, there would at least be a record even if nothing could be done. So that when another student complained of sexual harassment and feared for her safety, no one would call her a liar. No one would tell her to “chill out” and “let it go.”

She wouldn’t have to doubt herself or feel alone because I had already left a record showing that what James did was real, not some delusion like everyone seemed to say. But once I started talking to the officer I started to see a different picture. I sat on the edge of my chair and explained the situation as clearly as possible. James lived in a nearby residence hall. He was friends with my friends. He seemed to have a romantic interest in me that I did not return.

He sent me manipulative texts including one that read: “This is not blackmailing. It’s simply what I’m capable of doing and would love to do after all you and [my roommate] did to me.”

I let the officer read some of the messages. I discussed my call to ACCPD and how they mentioned getting a restraining order from the magistrate court.

But the campus police officer just shook his head and chuckled. He didn’t seem to think my situation was serious. In fact, he dismissed many of my concerns about James potentially hurting the people around me. From the officer’s demeanor, it seemed that the threats being made were just some elaborate joke, nothing I needed to be concerned about. But I was concerned. I was scared. The officer told me that he didn’t think James would go through with any of the threats, but I didn’t see how that mattered. This officer had never met James. He didn’t know that he kept a knife in his dorm room. And even once I told him these things, I felt as if the officer just considered me some hysterical girl ranting about a boy who was in love with me. The officer wrote some things on his notepad. He told me he would put them in a file if it made me feel better.

But I didn’t feel better — I felt humiliated and patronized.

Fortunately, the EOO investigation was under way. I sat down in an office with the associate director of the EOO and a counselor from RSVP with a box of tissues in front of me. I tried to follow what he said about how my situation had to have met the criteria for what UGA defined as harassment for anything to be done. In addition, I needed to find people who would vouch for me. People who had seen the way James had treated me, but more importantly, people who would be willing to speak to the EOO. While many of my friends agreed that I didn’t deserve this kind of treatment, they grew cold after hearing that I was filing a complaint. They felt like I was taking it too far.

Having to find friends who would be willing to be interviewed made me nervous, but the Amnesty for Students clause that the EOO abided by put me at ease.

The clause states: “The University encourages students to come forward and report violations of the [Non-Discrimination and Anti-Harassment Policy] NDAH Policy notwithstanding their choice to consume alcohol or to use other drugs. Information reported by a student during an investigation concerning use of drugs or alcohol will not be used against any student in a University disciplinary proceeding or voluntarily reported to law enforcement.”

While I am not a drug user nor a heavy drinker, I have had an alcoholic beverage or two underage at some point in my life. I knew that James’s roommate, who was named in the texts submitted for the investigation, smoked weed from time to time. Knowing that James couldn’t threaten to expose us to the University Judiciary in retaliation made me feel a great deal safer. I gave the associate director of the EOO every detail. I turned over the text messages that James sent me and tried to remember the exact date and time when he kept me hostage in his room. An email was then sent to James and the witnesses I felt could vouch for me. I would never have to confront James in person.

Resolving a sexual harassment case at UGA under the EOO auspices proved to be very different from the way anything else is handled in the real world. There is no court room, lawyers, representatives, jury or face-to-face confrontation. There was simply a mild mannered man in a small office who listened to both sides of the story and decided what to do. The EOO eventually sent me a letter, informing me of its decision. Based on the investigation, the office found that James “violated the NDAH Policy by committing sexual harassment.” He was placed on probation and required to “complete several educational requirements.”

The EOO ruled in my favor.

Though James is still on campus as a student, he is required to take some classes in order to correct his behavior and is not allowed to contact me. If I’ve learned anything from this ordeal, it’s that the system is complicated. It is not easy to find out where to go or who to contact. Many of us are not familiar with Title IX, and we often brush away serious complaints about sexual harassment and threats as a joke. If there’s one thing I do know, it’s that our university can do more to educate students about how to handle complicated issues like these.

We need to be taught, not to just stop walking alone at night, but how to file a complaint or where to seek help when we are wronged. Our education needs to include how to recognize attacks that are not physical in nature, and what to do when verbal or emotional attacks occur.

*James is not his real name. The name has been kept secret to protect his anonymity since the focus of my story is to let others know that they are not alone.

As someone with a passion for technology and innovation, being able to visit Singularity University was an amazing experience. I am an avid fan of SU’s founders, Ray Kurzweil and Peter Diamandis, two technology visionaries in their respected spaces, and to visit their campground for innovation has been the highlight of my trip to Silicon Valley.

For a background on those who might not exactly know what SU is and what is stands for: SU brings together undergraduate/graduate college students, startups, and technology executives to serve as a Silicon Valley think tank that addresses problems through educational programs and a business incubator. What makes SU stand out to me (aside from the fact that it’s located right in the middle of a giant NASA research center and a Federal airfield) is that they focus on empowering people to use exponential technologies to solve some of humanity’s biggest challenges and make a positive impact on the world.

SU doesn’t want to create the next social media app or the next photo sharing app, they want to help entrepreneurs solve actual real life problems that affects all of us.

Some examples include: a project to bring toilets and sanitation to a million people in third world countries, a company that makes 3D printers designed for space, and countless other inspiring initiatives. In a place where many entrepreneurs and investors are chasing the next billion dollar idea. Our tour guide summed up pretty well what SU chases: We’re not here for a billion dollar unicorn, we’re here for a billion people impact unicorn.

To me, that’s the kind of place that I want to be at. Hopefully, next year I can apply to their incubator with an idea to make a positive impact on the world. Currently they are looking for ideas in AI/robotics, digital biology/medicine, networking/computer systems, and digital fabrication/nanotechnology.

Doing something to help progress any of those fields would be an incredible opportunity, and SU is a unique place that can offer that. I want to thank UGA’s Society of Entrepreneurs in providing this experience to students looking to make, as Steve Jobs would put it, “a ding in the universe.”

F.A.M.I.L.Y- forget about me, I love you. This is what family means to Rutgers.

And personally, I believe in it because my father proves it to me everyday. Those who are fortunate can say their family means the world to them…and this is my explanation.

In Jim Collins’s book Good to Great, he explains what he believes is a level 5 leader. He says that a level 5 executive is someone who “builds enduring greatness through a paradoxical blend of personal humility and professional will.”

As soon as I read this definition, it was as if a light bulb went off in my head. In my world, Jim Collins was explaining my father.

My dad, or as I call him Daddy, is a master at perfectly balancing his personal humility and professional will for the sake of our family.   Lets start with professional will. No matter how busy, how stressed, or how tired my father is, he drops everything in times of the family’s needs.

In high school, I competed with an all-star cheerleading team, which meant that every weekend was a trip to a new state. At the same time, my sister was on a competitive travel soccer team. In order to help my mother out, he came up with a plan. Every competition that was a long drive, my dad would drive me and my mother would go with my sister. This meant about a six-hour drive on Friday night and a six-hour drive home, through the very late hours of the Sunday evening and most often, early a.m. hours on a Monday.

When competitions were far enough to take a plane, he would always offer my mother to go, allowing her to always have the easier travel.

Going to college six hours from home gets pretty hard sometimes. When I want to surprise my mother and sister for a weekend, my father is at my school in exactly six hours to pick me up and bring me home. Six hours here, six hours back. And let’s not forget the twelve-hour trip to bring me back on Monday for classes. Professional will. A plan, an idea, a strategy.

This is something my father will always possess. Personal humility.

Lets talk about the topic of travel soccer and all-star cheerleading again. Two passions that my sister and I acquired. One word that would always float in the back of our heads; expensive. Providing us with a great house, a surplus of toys at Christmas time, and endless amounts of food, my sister and I still knew our parents didn’t have a money tree in the backyard. Knowing the cost of these two activities, it was never a problem for my father. He truly wanted us to cherish what we loved, even if this meant money out of the family savings.

He financially extended himself to make sure he gave his children what they wanted. College, out-of-state college. Scary for my mother and I, but never a problem for my father. His mindset is always geared toward living in the moment. His optimism is what keeps him calm, cool, and collected and certain that the future is going to be bright.

Jim Collins describes the process of the window and the mirror: “Level 5 leaders look out the window to apportion credit to factors outside themselves when things go well, and if they cannot find a specific person or event to give credit to, they credit good luck.”

One of the main reasons my family is so passionate is because of my father. But he would never admit this. If you asked him why our family is the way it is, he would say because of his three girls. I guarantee he would look out the window and credit a million people and good luck before he credited himself, the person the credit really belongs to.

Honestly, I am the lucky one.

I am the luckiest girl in the world to call this man my father. I could easily go on and on about all the great things he does for our family. As soon as I submit this, I will probably think of a few more great examples I wish I added.  I just want to say thank you to Jim Collins for being able to put in words the kind of leader my father is. I also want to say thank you to my father, for being the person you are everyday. My love for you is unconditional, and our family is truly blessed with you. Thank you for being my superhero.

There was one thing I always knew growing up – I loved dogs, and so did my family. We always had a full house of four-legged fluffs.

When I moved away to college, life started to become overwhelming. I had always struggled with depression and anxiety, but it didn’t start to become unbearable until the end of my freshman year. I missed the comfort of my furry best friends, my confidants, and the ones that I told all my secrets to. I began hounding my parents with the idea that once I moved off campus, I should get a dog; but, as they put it, “the timing and logistics weren’t right”. Second semester sophomore year took a turn for the worst.

Life became a façade. Although I seemed to be the happy, go-lucky person on the outside, my depression and anxiety strangled me like kudzu around a tree.

Each day seemed to pass even slower. Nights became terrible with time ticking at a snail’s pace, but my mind racing at a million miles a minute. I was becoming physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted. As midterms approached, I lusted for time away – to recuperate and try to get my mental back on track. One Tuesday afternoon, I was walking back to my car from North Campus, where I was skimming my Facebook feed and talking to my Mom – and there he was on my newsfeed – my future furball – sitting on death row with less than 24 hours to live.

And I instantaneously knew in my heart of hearts that we were destined to be together. Even though I knew that I wanted, needed Rescue Ralph in my life, the rational side of me began questioning our fate. – What type of dog was he? Did he get along with other animals? Can I even have a dog in my apartment complex? – to name a few.

After a call to the rescue group, Angels Among Us, I found out that a woman in Tennessee had sponsored Ralph, and his name had been taken off the list to be euthanised. I’m not sure who God was looking after at this point in time, whether it was Ralph, or me, but my heart fluttered when I heard this information. Confirming the details I had locked in place, I began researching the answers to my previous questions.

As the days of that week passed, I already felt myself having a higher sense of purpose – a reason to get up in the morning, something to look forward to, a new escape, a way of dealing with my depression and anxiety, and it was all thanks to this dog that I still really knew nothing about. And then it happened. An email was sent out saying that someone was needed to transport Rescue Ralph from Commerce to Atlanta.

Immediately, I volunteered. What better way to kick off my Spring Break than to pick up this clunky 8 month old puppy?!? This was the first time I truly believed in fate. That Friday morning, I bought a doggy seat belt and headed on out of Athens to the shelter in Commerce to pick up Ralph and take him to his foster family. Those two words foster family – broke my heart. This boy deserved a forever home. As I pulled up to the shelter I prayed that Ralph would love me back as much as I already loved him. There was a spring in my step and a smile on my face. I told the desk attendant I was here to pick up Ralph – they didn’t seem to notice me nervously fidgeting with my hands.

From around the corner I heard the vet assistant being pulled by a dog, who I assumed was Ralph, and boy was I right! This 8-month-old puppy was not a small dainty thing; instead he was 70 lbs. of rambunctiousness. Barreling towards me, Ralph proceeded to knock me over and then cover my face with kisses. Fate, I told myself, fate would make this happen. Our car ride was nothing less than adventuresome.

After few escapes from the seat belt, and a stop at the dog store to get a proper collar and leash, we finally made it to my house.

I was not going to pass up the opportunity to show this boy off to my parents and give them my own puppy eyes to get their approval. My parents’ biggest concern was if Ralph would get along with our current dogs. After a brief introduction to the pack, it seemed that everything I had hoped and prayed for was for nothing.

My mom volunteered to ride down with me to drop Ralph off at his foster family’s home. Heartbroken and teary eyed, I welcomed the thought of company. As I gathered my things and prepared to load Ralph in the car, my dad walked into the garage. He must have seen how much love was already in my heart for Ralph because he asked the golden question, “Are you sure it won’t work?” And without hesitation, I started to cry tears of joy; this boy was officially going to be mine.

After filling out the paperwork and getting Ralph adjusted, I renamed him Sarge because of the way he sat and observed the outdoors. Six weekends stood between Sarge and I being together full time. My landlord would not allow me to bring him up to Athens; so, every weekend I made the trek down the 316 to my parents’ house to spend Friday through Sunday with him. He was exactly what I needed, and still is. I always ask – “who rescued who?”

I have been able to give him a better life, but he has done the same for me.

In the last 4 years he has helped me face my social anxiety, makes me want to get up in the mornings, and has become my best friend. Looking back, overcoming these logistical hurtles solidified the fact we were destined to be together. Having Sarge in my life has been the biggest blessing God could have given me. He is the reason I smile, he is the reason I wake up and he is the reason that I am reminded that even on my worst days, life will get better and there is always something to wag your tail at.

Being a second semester junior in college, I really thought I’d have my life figured out by now. Truth is, I don’t and I’m slowly learning to be okay with that. For the longest time, I had always dreamed about my life after college.

I wanted to move to some cool new city in a different state with a fresh start. I thought I would have a lot more experience in the field that I wanted to work in.

I thought I’d be in a serious relationship with my college sweetheart. Don’t get me wrong, college has been the best years of my life, but it has taught me that not a lot in life is going to go the way you planned.

Reality has really set in this year because so many of my friends are seniors and are graduating in a little over a month.

I’ve seen them struggle to find jobs, apply to graduate schools. Many already have a job lined up for them after graduation, while some are still figuring it out. Once they’re gone, I’ll be in that position.

My plan for right now is graduate school. I’m stressed about having to take the GRE, completing the applications, and, of course, waiting to hear whether I’m good enough to get accepted to the programs.

Then there’s the whole matter of paying for graduate school, adjusting to a new city, and being successful in furthering my education.

It all makes me insanely nervous thinking about being a real adult. Living on your own inside the college bubble is not the same as truly living on your own.

As much as I long to start a new chapter in my life, I truly don’t feel prepared for it. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that I shouldn’t expect to be prepared for most of the things that life throws at me. With a little positivity and a little courage, I know that I’ll be okay.

There’s  a story that has greatly inspired me over time. A boy, whose teacher asked the class to write down what they wanted to be when they grew up for homework. The boy then went home and wrote down that he wanted to be on TV.

He turned in his assignment the next day to his teacher, she looked down at him, and then proceeded to call his mother. She told his mom that he wasn’t taking his assignment seriously and that he needed to write down what he actually wanted to be when he grew up, something realistic. Knowing that he was probably going to get a ‘whoopin’ as he arrived home from school, he tried to sneak in, yet he was caught and his mom told his dad to deal with him.

So his dad takes him outside and reads the paper and instructs his son to write down whatever his teacher needs to hear, turn it in, and then keep this piece of paper within reach and never forget it.

So the boy turns the paper in to his teacher and continued to work towards his goal every day and hasn’t stopped yet. That same boy is now the host of Family Feud, the Steve Harvey Show, Little Big Shots, his own radio show, has hosted numerous events, and made a living off his childhood dream.

That same boy is Steve Harvey. It is that same drive, perseverance, and passion that I truly believe burn deep within me and push me to challenge myself each and every day. To risk it all for others, and to continue to fight the good fight. I come from a family of 9 children. A family of more than enough kicking and screaming, bunk beds, and forced sharing.

I am 3rd to youngest, only to my two little twin brothers. A family where each one of us is in our own zone, and had chosen our own paths early in life. But with this I learned what it is like to have your voice drowned out among the noise. When often no matter how hard you try sometimes your voice isn’t heard even though it may be unintentional. It’s no secret that I am a black male, but it’s lesser known that black males only make up 2.7 percent of UGA’s student population.

Out of Georgia’s 30% black population, UGA does not accurately represent the demographics of the state as the flagship institution.

In a school with 35,000 other students it’s very easy to get lost in the wind, and get pushed into the crevices of this great institution. Too often left behind in the march ahead, or silenced among the masses. Coming to UGA and having to adjust to the demographics implored me to find ways to make this campus more diverse in terms of race, truly because I thought many were missing out on what a great college it really is based on stigmas.

I joined organizations like the Black Male Leadership Society, where I later went on to become President, and the Student Government Association, where I’ve been Chief Justice the past two terms. I used the connections I then made to be able to advocate on behalf of minority students and find unique ways to change the campus culture. It is what I have spent a lot of my time doing at UGA and have truly enjoyed every moment of it.

But I wasn’t always the one on the front lines of this battle. I was once deemed as shy or quiet.

Blending in among the crowd like a grain of sand on a beach. It was in the 8th grade when I learned a valuable life lesson as I failed to make the cut for the basketball team. I only wanted to be talented in basketball because it was what seemed cool, and what others seemed to care about.

It had never occurred to me at the time that my eloquent voice could be used for advocacy and impacting the lives of many in a positive way simply because it wasn’t flashy. That is when the switch clicked.

I knew I needed to use my voice for others. But by the way, I did go on to play basketball in high school, in case you thought I sucked. The decision to run for Student Body President came from a place of purpose, a place of passion, a place of hope, and a place of calling. It is that fundamental belief that we are all created equal and no matter how small, or how different we may be, we all belong and not only deserve, but are guaranteed a voice.

If you have ever played in a band you know that although some instruments may be louder and seem to drown out others, each instrument is critical to creating the ultimate sound. I run so that I may speak for the forgotten. To give a voice to the voiceless, and to bring together each and every student on this campus, from all walks of life, to unite as one and speak as one.

From a young age in school and with friends I knew and still feel to this day what it is like to be left out.

And even if one student felt that way, it would break my heart. I will never make promises that I can’t keep in ensuring that each student will have each individual issue taken care of. But I can say that I will spend every ounce of drive in me to strive toward that goal. It isn’t always about jumping to a storybook ending; sometimes you just have to write the first word.

Saying that we are ALL IN  is a very intentional statement. In choosing to run, I have given up internships and organizational opportunities, taken off work, and sacrificed time with family and others. I say that not because I want you to feel sorry for me, because this has been an active choice everyday. I want everyone to understand that sometimes things are bigger than yourself.

It isn’t always about you.

We are all just pieces of a whole picture, stories and snapshots of memories that tell a greater story, and I am here to lift all voices up. I have been told over and over in my life that things couldn’t be done. That I wasn’t going to succeed in areas of my life, and that my dreams and aspirations were too lofty or unattainable. But over and over again, I have proved each and every one of them wrong. I hope to do so again. I want to be an inspiration to each and every other student just like me.

I want to light a fire in every person I come into contact with and to help ignite their passions for what they believe in. Because then and only then, can they be satisfied with the outcome knowing that they gave it their all. I implore anyone who reads this to never give up, write your own destiny, be yourself, find your talent and use it to positively impact someone else’s life, and always, go ALL IN.

Imagine waking up every single day for the last 400+ days and having one thing ever-present in your mind. How are you going to build a business? How are you going to create something that can have a meaningful impact and support yourself and the others working for you?

At 23 years old, I wake up every day with the pressures of juggling 10 things at once, and then going to sleep having to do it all over again when I wake up.

Sometimes it feels as if there is a drill in my brain prying down as far down is it can go. The drill is me thinking and functioning to create more ideas and get more “juice” for the day or late into the night so we can execute our organization successfully. When the juice is gone, I’m exhausted. But, there is always that quenching thirst for more…

At the end of the day, sometimes it’s hard to measure whether I’m playing guesswork, succeeding, or falling flat on my face. This journey is truly a battle, one that tests you, exposes you, and tells you to quit. I’m not listening.

A Quick Recap – What have we achieved the last year?

Our team at Wish Dish has taken an idea and turned it into a website that has had 300,000+ total visitors, 400+ content submissions, and now a monthly average of 15,000 – 30,000 views. We have shared stories at 13 different colleges. We have partnered with different businesses in Athens and Atlanta. We have also built a social following of over 6,000+ combined from Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter. We’ve established an incredible foundation in little over a year.

We all know WHY Wish Dish started. But HOW did it start?

In October 2014, my senior year of college, I was taking an entrepreneurship class with Chris Hanks. It was a fall day in October, and Professor Hanks was talking about going through the “dark night” meaning entrepreneurs go through a journey of ups and downs.

A classmate (stranger to me at the time), Michael Gargiulo, CEO of VPN.com, ended up raising his hand and giving an honest testimony of his struggles through the entrepreneurial journey.

It put a chill down my spine. While I didn’t know Michael I could point him out by his throwback Atlanta Hawks hat. I was working with the Hawks running a college program, so I decided to bring Michael a new Hawks shirt to let him know how much I appreciated his thoughts in class. Before I knew it, Michael and I became really good friends.

At the same time, I was also working on a blog called Influence (the infancy of the Wish Dish). The idea was to have people write something meaningful to “influence” others for the better. I shared these stories once a week on the blog. Michael then messaged me saying I should start my own website. Now that’s an idea…

After many late nights staying up messaging Michael from 10PM-2AM asking him how in the world to set up a website and finding a great friend named Aalok Patel, www.thewishdish.com was born.

Creating and Raising an Internet Baby

I remember launching Wish Dish in the basement of my house in Virginia around early January of 2015. I went through my phone, asked all my friends to share the website on social media. What I remember most from that first day was all the people asking me, “What in the world is Wish Dish?” a question that lingered for months…

I soon realized that creating a successful website was so much more than setting up a domain name and inserting a design on WordPress.

I told a bunch of people in my classes to write for the site and they kept asking, what is Wish Dish?

Wish Dish soon evolved into a place where someone could express themselves, offer their story to the world and either embrace or walk away, closing a chapter.

I told these people the same prompt over and over again, “Write something meaningful to influence others for the better. No limits, no boundaries, it’s your story so make it you.”  The open prompt and the willingness for us to hear various points of view is still a staple of our site.

It didn’t take long to realize that we were on to something. After reading the first few stories by Andrew Holleran, Chuck Blakeman, Dev Iyer, and Carden Wyckoff their posts received hundreds of likes on Facebook. They were given incredible support and feedback from their friends.

I was starting to resonate with people in such a deep way I never had before and learning things about my friends I never knew.

This was fun, we were making an impact, and building the start of something truly unique, memorable, and something that mattered

One of the Toughest Decisions of my Life

When I entered college I was on this mission to set myself apart from others due a low point in my life I won’t get into. By connecting my passion with sports early on in life with my business interests, I spent my freshman to senior years working relentlessly in the sports industry learning everything I could. If I chose a different path I would probably be working in the sports industry right now. But when I was approached to take a job up in New York, I hesitated. I knew that wasn’t my purpose.

But doubts still lingered.

Deciding Factors

I remember one conversation that was a real gut-check for me on whether I really wanted to continue with this site or to pack my bags and find what some might call a “real” job.

In the middle of February. I was leaving the gym on UGA’s campus and I called a mentor of mine named Chris Harris, CEO of Entrepreneur Hour & Lift It.

I told him, “Look Chris, I just don’t know if I can do this anymore. I should probably go to NYC and work.” His brevity was apparent, and he said, “Well, it’s your decision, do what you have to do.”

Chris built a multi-million dollar moving business bootstrapping every penny. There was a reason he was disappointed, especially after helping me for the past year and half.

Later that night I received a Facebook message from Chris basically saying to me, “Look Bryan, I can’t help you anymore if you are going to give up on your dream. Put on your armor, get tough, and be a man and continue on your journey.”

To simply put it. I had a tremendous amount of fear. I was thinking about giving up a huge job opportunity to risk it all for a vision that I had no idea would work.

Decision Time | Convincing My Parents and Saying No to NYC

I flew home to Virginia after spring break in mid-March. I had to have a serious talk with my parents about my plans post-graduation. It was not a conversation I was excited to have, but it was one that was necessary. I knew I would be facing an uphill climb.

Honestly, I felt deflated. My presentation to them was so lackluster. I was talking to my own parents, yet I was petrified the entire time. They had no idea why I wanted to pass up a great opportunity like a job in sports business. But I told them that I wanted to create something, not just view it as a hobby, but a gift I would offer up to the world and be remembered for.

Three hours later we walked away from our meeting place, both of them agreed to let me try and figure it out.

Now, I tell this story not to put down my parents (they have been the most supportive figures in my life from when I was a child. And that’s the truth), but because I believe this is a conversation that 90% of entrepreneurs face unless they were born into a family that just “gets it.” It’s just one you have to have.

A few months later, I graduated and the real world hit me hard.

My First Week of Work – (3 days after graduation)

I remember starting my first day working full-time for the site on Monday, May 18^th. I was still in Athens and all my college friends had left. I stayed behind while everyone else seemed to be embarking on the next chapters of their lives.

I will never forget the feeling of being mentally paralyzed the first few days. I had no idea what in the world to do or where to start. But I knew three things, just put my head down, start, and pray that it will all work out in the end.

But, some people help you figure it out along the way.

HW Creative Marketing & Richie Knight

Part of the process was understanding the business I was in so I tried to surround myself with resources who could help me succeed.

Richie Knight, founder of HW Creative was offering classes the spring semester of my senior year on Content Marketing and Search Engine Optimization. I started going to his classes and meeting with him for coffee to pick his brain.  After several discussions, Richie offered to help us build a professional looking site (our second site).

It was one of those pick-me-ups that come out of nowhere, that really helped accelerate our journey. This is a common story that has continued where it seems like the right people continue to walk into our journey at the right time.

A special thank you to Richie, because we wouldn’t be where we are without you today!

Influential Wish Dish Stories

While we set out to start a revolution of self-expression where people could dive into the deeper sides of their lives beyond what is seen normally in social media or everyday conversation, we didn’t realize what giving a voice would do for some of our community members. There are a few stories that really stick out in my mind and really show us we’re at the crossroads for something special.

One story to denote was by Josh Jones who wrote about overcoming his challenges with dyslexia. He had never written something like that before and it empathized with so many people. His story circulated through the entire Braves organization and now is working with the Brewers in the operations department pursuing his dream to be a General Manager.

Another really neat story came from Victoria Arnold when she submitted a piece about her rare sleeping disorder. How she could be so personal and open about such a hardship really shook me to the core.

Throughout this process people have approached me and said that I am making a difference in people’s lives. That I’m pulling back the layers we’ve used to isolate ourselves in a culture where information is available at the swipe of a tablet yet we couldn’t be further apart. They told me this mattered.

Special thank you to those who have reached out along the way. Now to the people behind the scenes, the ones in the trenches.

Forming our Team

To build something extraordinary, I believe that you need to surround yourself with phenomenal people. To begin this process I asked one of my best friends, Shelby Novak, to come on board and help set social media strategy (Shelby has been a consistent force for us to this day). Her social media presence keeps us relevant and open to the world.

The next key addition was adding our editor to the team, Matt Gillick. Matt is a Providence college graduate, and has an incredible understanding of literature, writing, and the framework of a story. He started editing all of our posts and now manages all content for the site and has brought two more editors on board. Matt has worked steadily with us since March and feels that every story we put out can have the chance of touching a person at a human level. We at the site deeply care about your words and have an editing staff who value them.

Another key piece to our team is Sam Dickinson. I asked Sam to join us in August after coming off his summer internship with Southwest Airlines. Sam serves in setting our site framework, public relations, and content strategy. When it comes to a clear vision and implementing those ideas, Sam is second to none. With Sam, we have found new and better ways to present our content.

Without an internal team working toward the same end-goal and mission, we truly wouldn’t be where we are today. It’s these people who are doing all the hard work behind the scenes that no one accounts for when looking at the platform as a whole.

The Future

From Day 1, we have set out to build a community that connects people through the sharing their story, whatever it may be. We have set out to give people a means to express themselves in their authentic voice. We have done both of these in a small way and we plan to keep doing so.

We realize that we cannot rest on our laurels. We have to keep moving forward in creating a platform that evolves with the needs of our community. We envision a community worldwide where people use Wish Dish to share specific life chapters because they know it as their place to share their story.

As long as someone has a story to tell, a song to sing, a beat to stomp to, The Wish Dish will be there to put the microphone in your hand. Express yourself and join us.

(Written by Darby Miller)

If you REALLY know me and my views on life, then you know my low-key obsession with cups.

I mean yes, I love those coffee cups with their ~inspirational~ quotes and I love my $1 cherry blossom cups I recently bought from Dollar Tree…BUT my obsession doesn’t come from a tangible sense, it comes from a metaphorical sense. I believe that “cups” can be used on a daily basis to describe life and how we should live it.

We’ve all heard the classic saying “glass half-full vs. glass half-empty” when describing an optimist vs. pessimist view towards certain situations. Personal opinion here, but I truly believe if you choose to see each moment given to you with a CUP half-full mentality…each and every day is going to reveal all sorts of joys/wonders (I am a self-proclaimed optimist, can you tell?).

Ask yourself, what would your life look like if you decided to see the sweet moments in everyday life?

Are you overshadowing someone’s bliss by your negative attitude? Would your days be different if you highlighted the good and left the bad in the past? Not only is it important for you to create and maintain this positive outlook, but attitudes are contagious. You never know whose day you’re impacting by your words and actions.

“Every day might not be a good day, but there is good in every day.” I was challenged this past year to write down one positive thing I took away from each day. They varied from “wow today the weather was so AWESOME” to “I ate Taco Bell today…heck yes” to “today I had a really intentional conversation with a friend.”

This daily ritual began to alter how I viewed the entirety of the day. I started noticing all the immense gifts in each day, small or large, that made me smile. Happiness is this really cool thing where everyone has their own take on the question “what fills up your cup?” I challenge you to answer that question and start implementing those things in your daily routine.

Is it going for a long run? Catching up with a friend? Listening to a jammin’ song with the windows rolled down? (If so, let me come with). But it doesn’t matter what floats your boat, as long as you start doing these things in your daily life routine.

Obviously some days feel like they can drag on forever, but I challenge you to find the joy and soak up the days. And if you’re having a bad day, remember my favorite quote, “the days are long, but the years are short.”

One of the best things that life brings us is the opportunity to create relationships with others. In my opinion, interactions with others will FILL up your hypothetical cup the most.

Relationships create a whole new mindset behind the idea of cups. Essentially I’ve learned that everyone has their own unique, individual and beautiful type of cup. Cups differ in many ways; color, shape, size, purpose, etc.

For example, you probably aren’t going to use a wine glass for your morning coffee (but if you do, I respect you big time because you do you, homie.) Taking that in a literal sense, just like cups have purposes, you as an individual too have been placed on this earth with a purpose. And see, no two cups are alike so no two people are meant for the same purpose!

But let’s be honest, sometimes it is really hard knowing truly what our purpose is when we are one of 7.2 billion.

If you’ve found yourself barely staying afloat in the never ending questioning of purpose, you’re not alone. All throughout my life, especially my first two years of college, I struggled with this concept to the extreme. One night in particular I was feeling extra drained and just really down on myself. I wasn’t happy with who I was becoming or the decisions I was making. In my terminology, my personal “cup” was as empty as it could be.

I was walking back to my apartment when I was handed a water bottle from a stranger. Attached to the bottle was a note that said, “Your Life Has Purpose.”

A million thoughts raced through my mind like, “Why does this random person think that I, Darby Miller, have purpose?” or “they don’t even know me or all the mistakes I’ve made…how could they think I have a purpose?” I doubted myself completely. I doubted my worth.

Too much in society, we forget our worth, our value, our purpose to this world. We let insecurities and others tear us down from what we really are in His eyes…perfect. I know there are going to be moments in your life where life doesn’t seem to be going your way or you feel like you’re going down the wrong path BUT…I can promise you this…your life has a purpose…a MAJOR purpose!

Don’t let anyone or anything try to tell you differently because you are a special, unique, beautiful cup that has been created in His image and your capabilities are infinite.

It took a simple gesture of a water bottle to realize my worth. In DJ Khaled terms, the “key to success” isn’t always going to be right in front of you lit up in lights saying, “Hey you! This is how you’re going to do everything and then it’ll all be alright!”

Your purpose is a journey. Your purpose is constantly evolving. Your purpose will surprise you with new ideas and experiences.

Today is the day. Today I challenge you to see that each day and each person is a precious gift. I challenge you to embrace ALL the abilities you were given no matter the circumstances.

And above all else, I challenge you to remember that you have a really cool creator who loves you immensely. So may your cup be filled to the brim and may you have the ability to fill up others’ cups with His love.

“And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge-that you may be FILLED to the measure of all the fullness of God.” Ephesians 3:17-19

(Written by Haley Greenberg)

For as long as I can remember (or since high school because my memory is not that great) I have always told myself to keep a blog, journal, some written record of my day-to-day life.

Having those little moments and feelings on paper (or online) forever seemed like the greatest idea in the world. How cool will it be when I am 30, 40, 50 years old to look back and see my sob-story about how the boy I had a crush on in school actually had a crush on someone else, the test I failed, the friend I fought and then made up with?

With the end of 2015 rapidly approaching I have found myself thinking a lot about what I want out of this upcoming year.

I am not going to be naive and say that I am making a list of resolutions that I will vow to keep because we all know that never actually ends up happening.

However, I still cannot shake this constant nagging in the back of my head to keep up with a journal/blog. Every once in a while I start off pretty strong, taking a few minutes at the end of the day to just write down what is going on. But that quickly ends, when classes, friends and life seem to just get in the way.

Today, while making a weak attempt at studying for the 2 finals I have left, a friend texted me about her high school boyfriend and we had a conversation about how different things are now, how much we’ve changed. This conversation made me wonder, why do I feel this constant urge to remember every little detail of my life?

Why is my desire to put things in writing taking away from me actually doing them?

Am I scared that my best years have already past? Of course not, there is so so much that lies ahead of me. Am I worried that things that once consumed my entire world will be forgotten? Maybe, but isn’t that what life is all about? Why should I spend so much time worrying about preserving the past instead of focusing on my present?

I thought I wanted to keep a journal to track these changes, and I still do, but is it really necessary to write down every single day, every little detail? It’s not. Yes I may forget what my friends and I stayed up talking about until 3 in the morning last night, but I will never forget the friends or the impacts they have made on my life.

Will I forget the name of every boy I kissed?

Yes I will, but will I forget how the relationships have taught me more about love and life than I could ever get from a blog? No.

Will my anxiety and distress over my finance grades fade to the very back of my consciousness? Yes, but why would I want to be constantly reminded of the stress I endured anyways?

I used to view blogging as a way to preserve my memories, but now I am beginning to realize that the important ones will always be there. If I am constantly so obsessed with remembering everything that is happening in my life I will forget to truly experience it.

So I guess I now have my “resolution”, for lack of a better word, to better appreciate my life as I am living it.

To take a second every now and then to think, wow this moment is so exciting, sad, stressful, pathetic, indescribable, what have you, because what is the point in preserving memories if you didn’t take the time to fully experience them?

(Written by Martinique McCrory)

My junior year at Georgia Southern University was coming to a close and already I was coming down with the early symptoms of the massive plague that is Senioritis. For those unaware, senioritis is defined by the internet dictionary as “a supposed affliction of students in their final year of high school or college, characterized by a decline in motivation or performance.”

As illegitimate as it seems, senioritis can be a very real thing for any student finishing up their last year of schooling. After three years of last-minute studying, panic-inducing homework, and tear-inducing grades, many students come up on their senior year feeling either worn out to the point of detachment, or anxious to the brink of depression about the future ahead.

People joke that with senioritis comes sweatpants, numerous absences, and a general IDGAF attitude.

I was feeling very much the same way as junior semester ended and I was looking into internships and post-college job opportunities with little motivation and a lot of anxiety. Something had to be done. As silly as it may sound, something clicked deep within my subconscious and the next day I remembered Jim Carrey’s 2008 movie, Yes Man. A movie based on the premise that saying “yes” to everything opens up more positive and rewarding experiences in life.

Obviously I wasn’t going to say “yes” to literally everything asked of me, but I realized that over the course of three years at the university, I had certainly learned the power of “no” a little too well. No, I do not want to go Claire’s party on a Tuesday. No, professor, I don’t have time to go to French club’s meetings on Fridays. No, I can’t volunteer on Saturday mornings.

I had gotten into the habit of shunning anything that didn’t involve sleep or anything that I didn’t consider to be worth my precious time and effort.

The practice had left me feeling more drained and pessimistic about life. Moreover, I was missing out on the things that made college exciting in the first place. So I challenged myself to never be too tired for anything, and to accept nearly all the invitations that floated my way. This included giving rides to my friends who didn’t have cars and attending more school-sponsored events.

Less than a week later, I was zipping around from place to place like a chicken with its head cut off – it was exhilarating. Every day was new and exciting. I sang, poorly, in the French talent show and scored major points with my Conversational French professor.

I was a trixie in the city’s shadow cast performance of the Rocky Horror Picture Show and got to throw condoms out to the audience. I accepted a summer internship in Savannah for a political campaign and fell in love with the city immediately. By the time my senior semester ended, I had written for three separate organizations, corresponded with the talented poet Stephen Burt, performed and happily embarrassed myself in two big dance competitions, and cemented stronger connections with my professors and friends guaranteed to last a lifetime.

My advice to anyone catching senioritis, or anyone that finds themselves in a slump, is to challenge yourself to say yes more. Push yourself, even when you’re feeling tired, to go out and do something–anything. The momentum of energy will carry itself to all other aspects of your life and leave you feeling more motivated, more happy, and less afraid.