I am a college student dealing with my daily depression and social anxiety.

I have a constant internal struggle because I suffer from loneliness, but having social anxiety makes me afraid to put myself out there to new people. I want to build connections, but I’m too afraid of being rejected. So, I stay at home, often alone. At first, I chalked it up to just being annoyed by daily occurrences, but then I wanted to be alone too often. I would find comfort behind a closed door in silence, but knowing the need to progress, I knew I needed to make a change.

I was going through a rough patch when I first met my cat Cali, and I absolutely fell in love.

She was the cutest and sweetest kitten I ever met. Her head was way too big for her body, and the way she always looked lost and confused warmed my heart. I hadn’t been much of an animal lover. Even when my mother bought me a puppy for my sixteenth birthday I said, “Mom, I don’t even like dogs.” This time though, it was different. I took her home from the shelter and I began to spend even more time at home, but this time, I wasn’t alone. Cali was with me.

People laugh when I say that I love Cali, but I do (probably too much). She keeps me company when I’m lonely. She gives me space when I need it. She loves cuddling in the morning (which I am not too fond of because I’m not a morning person), but no matter what my day has been like, she is always there for me; no questions asked. I don’t have to explain myself to her, or feel inadequate when I say the wrong thing.

She took  a lonely suicidal college student, and gave me piece of mind and love. Of course, human interaction is still a necessary treatment to loneliness, but with Cali, I have more confidence to meet new people. She’s taught me how to love unconditionally, even when she wakes me up at 4am by sitting on my face, or when she scratches holes in new t-shirts. Cali has also taught me how to love myself. She’s taught me that I am good enough.

It may seem as though I saved Cali when I brought her home from the shelter that day, but actually, she saved me.

I have always been very adventurous, outdoorsy, active, and energetic; I’ve been this way since my childhood. I became an avid runner and deemed most valuable player on my high school cross country team. Outside of school, I rode my bike, roller-bladed, traveled to the mountains to white-water-raft and the beach to try my hand at surfing.

I placed an extreme amount of value on new experiences trying new things. In college, I was granted the opportunity to study abroad twice- both times in London. While there, I visited Scotland, Wales, and Amsterdam of the Netherlands. I made some amazing friends, had some incredible cuisine, and had two true adventures of a lifetime.

At my United States University, I was living the all-American dream lifestyle. I was in an awesome program- Communication Studies and I loved most of my classes and teachers. I had two roommates that I considered best friends. I had a part-time job at The Gap and all of my co-workers became a close network of friends who did everything together. Oh, and did I forget to mention I attended college at the beach? Life was great, but I hit my prime the year after I graduated.

For a job, I became a brand ambassador and worked in sales and promotions.

It paid well, but it was very erratic and I was left with a lot of spare time. But that was the way I liked it. I became great friends with a very adventurous group of people- I had found my perfect companions. We played Frisbee golf every weekend, went zip-lining, skiing and snowboarding, jet-skiing, kayaking, hang-gliding- you name it. When I was outside or partaking in an adventurous activity, I was in my element.

About ten months into participating in these adventurous and outdoorsy activities, I discovered the long-board. Although it didn’t give the rush of flying three thousand feet in the air like hang gliding provided, long-boarding lent a new kind of adrenaline kick. For those of you who don’t know, a long-board is similar to a skateboard, but is made for cruising. My friends and I were long-boarding down roads, paved trails, and even parking garages. This new-found activity offered the most adrenaline I had ever experienced- looking back on it, I wonder if I was getting adrenaline mixed up with fear. But it was a new feeling and experience, so I was basking in its glory.

I had been borrowing a friend’s long-board, so the day mine came in, I couldn’t wait to break it in. I immediately called my friends and we hit the hills. In our boarding expedition, we came upon some new and uncharted territory. We all stopped and stared in awe at a steep hill. Not too much later, I hopped on my board nonchalantly, wanting my friends to think of me as bold and fearless.

I started the hill and went down a curve, only to realize the hill stretched on. The hill was longer and more daunting than I could have imagined. But it was too late now; I had already committed to it and was progressively picking up speed. I went around a second curve and that’s as much as I can tell you. According to my friends, I collected a bad case of speed wobble. Unfortunately, I could not recover, and what happened next started a new, foreign, and life-altering chapter of my life. I flew up in the air off of my board and came crashing down on the back of my head. Oh, yes- I forgot to mention: I was not wearing a helmet.

This is the part I find hardest to type because as much as people need to hear this story, I absolutely hate reliving it.

Where to begin? I had suffered a subdermal hematoma, or often called a traumatic brain injury. I spent twelve days in a coma. Upon waking up, I couldn’t walk and had no use of my left arm. I had a shaved head, no sense of smell, and a ventilator in my throat, making it very hard to talk. I spent two months in the hospital doing in-patient physical therapy, occupational therapy, and speech therapy. I had to learn how to transfer back and forth from a wheelchair to a bed. Being left-handed prior, I had to relearn how to feed myself. I had to relearn how to get dressed with the use of one hand.

I remember my family members wanting me to remain positive but realistic. They kept reiterating how lucky and very fortunate I was to not have suffered any mental deficits, but they also told me it was going to be a long road to recovery. Shock and denial kicked in and I chose not to hear them. I was going to return to my adventurous, care-free life in no time. I had only hit a little snag, but this would all be a distant memory. Not so much.

After being discharged from the hospital, I did out-patient therapy for a month. I then found a private physical therapist an hour away from home and I began to visit her once a week. My mom and brother rearranged their lives for me. They were at my beck and call 24/7. Thankfully, my mom was already retired. My brother took a semester off from school and they looked after me around the clock.

Two months passed and I graduated from a wheelchair to a walker. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, this was going to be a very long journey. I remember a specific time about six months after my accident. My family had taken me to Lake Johnson in Raleigh, a lake with a three mile loop trail surrounding it. I was still using my walker so I was a bit slow in my gait. We had only been walking for a few minutes when we came up on a slightly upward hill.

My mom and brother suggested we turn back and walk in the other direction. Ignoring them, I took two strenuous and unbalanced steps forward. Having only one hand available to hold the walker was making it all the harder. I stopped and looked around. There were two girls in yoga pants and tank tops jogging past and chatting away. I looked at their hair pulled up in cute pony tails and hearing them talk and laugh happily and carefree. I used to be those girls. I broke down, sobbing, as the realization finally dawned on me that I may never get back to running and being carefree.

Although I progressed and regained my ability to walk independently, life was still an everyday obstacle. I had been so physical in my past life and to have that aspect stripped away from me was almost more than I could bear. I went from having adventures, being in top athletic shape, and priding myself on my independence and efficiency to a disabled individual, having a difficult time even doing minute things such as getting dressed.

It’s been five and a half years since that tragic event. Let me update you: I walk better than I did, but I still have foot drop and I walk with a limp. As far as my arm goes, I still have very little movement. But that’s okay; I’ve made modifications as I learn to live one-handed in a two-handed world. I wear braces on both my foot and arm. I’ve finally learned to be grateful that my accident wasn’t worse. I easily could have acquired mental deficits, and I’m extremely thankful that I didn’t.

Whenever I get down, I just remind myself that the brain injury didn’t affect my memory, my ability to talk, and my capability to read and write. If I had suffered mental deficits, I may not have been capable of writing this story. I’ve had to work hard to gain back confidence under this new development. Yes, there are some things I can’t do, but there are plenty of things I still can do.

I’m still picking up the pieces of my life and putting them back together.

I set goals for myself each year and work hard to achieve them. This year’s goals: landing a full-time career and getting my driver’s license renewed. I turned my attention inward and started looking at work from home jobs. In the meantime, I applied for an internship in human resources with a virtual record label called Hit Records Worldwide. About six months into it, the instructor called me to inquire about another position I might like. It was in the marketing department, which was perfect as it was directly related to my college major. Working in that department for a year has allowed me to work my way up to Senior Regional Social Media Marketing Manager.

This internship has been extremely rewarding. We are working towards starting a non-profit called Getting Out Records, which will be an online community for foster care girls who want nothing more than to reach their goals of becoming music artists. I am very passionate about assisting these girls as I completely understand hardships and adversities. Some of the foster care girls my CEO has taken under his wings ironically long-board. I have spoken with them on the phone and have stressed the importance of helmet use. I think, or at least hope, that my story touched them and had some influential meaning.

My mom and I are writing a book about my journey and advocate for the importance of helmets. We see kids all the time biking and skating without helmets. I would like to educate them and tell them my story in order to make a difference in their lives. A helmet can make the difference in life and death.

I was extremely fortunate to have lived to tell. Since my accident, a lot has happened and a lot has changed. There have been very high highs and very low lows. There have been many laughs and many cries. Though I’ve suffered loss, I’ve still made gains. And though I’m limited in my capabilities, I’ve made many modifications and have still found a way to live life.

But most importantly, I’ve learned. I’ve learned to accept my accident and disability, and learned to move on and forward.

I’ve come to believe we choose how to play the cards we’re dealt. I’ve learned that it is okay to have bad days, but not to dwell on it. To try to be positive, and know that it could always be worse. I’ve come to believe that we are all on a journey of self-discovery.

In no way, shape, form, or fashion would I have believed that this is where I would be in my life right now. That being said, I now believe that this had to happen in order for me to end up where I do one day. This belief helps me cope and keep moving forward, knowing that this is only a part of my path. I don’t know what I’m destined for yet, but I do recognize that I had to go through this tragedy as a part of my journey. Perhaps I had to overcome this adversity in order to gain strength. Perhaps this strength will be put to use in the future.

I’m very hopeful that this will all be a thing of the past. They are making strides in stem cell treatment every day, and we are coming closer to finding cures. And perhaps I will not fully recover, but only partially. This will still be a good thing. However, I will always keep hoping.

Everyone is fighting a battle and undergoing a struggle, no matter how big or trivial. If you ever feel alone or feel like quitting, just remember that you are not alone and that there are millions of people trying to overcome adversities and underlying circumstances. We are all a team, rooting and cheering each other on through our trials and tribulations. We all are hoping that we can pull each other through the tunnels of darkness to see a sunnier sky.

So no matter how bad things get, just know in your heart that we are pulling for you. “Hope is a good thing. Maybe the best of things. And no good thing ever dies.” Andy DuFrane, The Shawshank Redemption

When I first started Wish Dish, little did I realize how important it was to have a strong technical lead.

Since Day 1, solving technical challenges has been like playing pickup basketball with the “Next Man Up” mentality. Luckily I’ve been able to find short term solutions that believe in me and get the job done. Since we have limited access to resources such as cash and living in a location where it’s hard to find a leader with good technical chops, this process has been a rigorous challenge.

We are now a full year into the entrepreneurial journey and our needs have changed.

When I think about why I started Wish Dish, I built the platform off of two pillars: freedom of self expression and meaningful connection. For me, I didn’t have the right place to share my voice and I lacked the community that cared to hear what I had to say. That was the genesis of Wish Dish.

I believe that we have accomplished our first goal of creating a platform where people can express how they feel without judgement from others. Ideally, I’d like to scale the contributor base to millions of contributors.

Having said that, I never created Wish Dish to be a successful “blog,” rather, I created Wish Dish to be an interactive platform. Similar to a place where people “hang out” and can find their tribe. I believe we are far away from our second pillar of creating a platform that facilitates personal connection online. We live in a world with mediums such as Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter that inhibit anything beyond surface level connection.

There has to be a way to go deeper, to create relationships on a personal level, and I believe we will be the platform that does this first.

Now, this is where a Chief Technology Officer comes to the table. In order for us to achieve our desired vision, we need to implement the right technology so our product can scale on its own.

But, what have I done to find it? … Great people don’t always show up on your doorstep in the beginning stages.

In the last six months, I have reached out to over one hundred web developers. I have spent countless hours asking them questions, being introduced to their friends, and building relationships. These conversations have been fascinating because I seem to learn something new every time. This is a unique breed of people who simply think in a way I have never experienced before.

In addition, I have also searched for CTO’s utilizing hashtags on twitter such as #Ilooklikeanengineer. I did this because it represents a female audience, one that makes up 70% of the audience on our platform.  There was a big campaign that started because Isis Anchalee stood up for women who faced gender discrimation in the engineering world. Once I identified a niche audience to target, I have tried to connect with them through their profiles on Twitter and LinkedIn.  This led to many phone calls and emails with little results.

I have also showed up to Meetups for developers in the Atlanta area. It is challenging when developers with great computer skills can be paid between $60k-$150k in my own backyard and I’m looking for someone to come on board at a meager salary with guaranteed equity base.

I have also emailed 20+ hackathon coordinators at various universities around the country and had Skype interviews with people they refer me to. Most of the students aren’t looking for opportunities that have long-term commitments.

Additionally, I have used platforms such as AngelList, Medium, VentureStorm and LinkedIn to search for web developers and connect with them. I’ve also strategized and tried to poach web developers from other media companies who may not have a leading role in the development process.

Being a company in the media space comes with the understanding this is no quick win. It takes 8-12 years to build something truly worthwhile and not many people want to sacrifice the time to see it payoff. We live in a world where people want instantenous success, and that will not be the case with our platform.

The journey has been a game of hard knocks. As a first time entrepreneur, who hasn’t “proven” his worth, I find it extremely difficult sometimes to find the right leader, who shares our common vision, to be the technical leader of our great vision. I know our needle in the haystack is out there, and I won’t stop digging through the pinestraw to find the right person.

Lastly, I don’t want to undermine the great work our WordPress agency has done at Classic City Consulting, but it’s time for us to build a lasting product, a core team, and something that makes a huge difference in society.

If you know anyone to introduce me to who would be interested or might know the right person, please let me know! bryan@thewishdish.com is where I hangout.

Finding my “Woz”

My Recommended Resource:

iWoz: Computer Geek to Cult Icon: How I Invented the Personal Computer, Co-Founded Apple, and Had Fun Doing It by Steve Wozniak

It’s no secret that Steve Wozniak and Steve Jobs through Apple revolutionized the computer industry with the invention of the first personal computer

Since then, Steve Wozniak has enjoyed his wealth, fame, and accolades as the sole inventor of the Apple I and Apple II computers, and tells his story here for the first time

In April of my junior year of high school, I was a midfielder for my high school lacrosse team.

For our cancer awareness game, Coach Dan Kaplan informed us that a 10-year-old named Lily Anderson, who was currently battling cancer, would be singing our national anthem. Little did I know, this girl would end up making a permanent impact on my life.

After Lily sang the national anthem, she sat on the bench of our sideline throughout the game. I remember it was baking hot and the sun was beating down. I had been knocked around a couple times and when I came off the field, I was drenched in sweat and looked pretty rough.

Although I sat down next to Lily, I was intimidated to speak to her. For some reason, I assumed a little girl battling cancer would be somewhat timid or fragile…Boy was I wrong. Lily looked me right in the face and said “Holy COW you are SOO sweaty!!!!”

I couldn’t even pretend to keep a straight face.

I busted out laughing and was completely sold from that moment on. Lily was absolutely hilarious from the get-go and said whatever was on her mind. I really appreciated this because I am the exact same way.

As our season went on, our team “adopted” Lily as an honorary teammate. We all viewed her as a baby sister and I constantly thought about how awesome it would be to see her play lacrosse one day.

Her favorite colors were lime green and bright pink so of course, our team began to wear lime green and pink in any way possible to show her our support. I remember us all putting pink and green tape on our sticks, ribbons in our hair and shoelaces in our cleats in order to be “Lily-styled.”

We loved Lily and her spunk so much and I began to think about her bravery and strength whenever I wanted to quit or give up on a ball or cheat my way in a sprint during practice. Lily motivated me to push myself further. In the winter of my senior year in high school, Lily became very sick.

The cancer was spreading.

By this time, she was 11 years old and our team was fully in love with her. I remember one night, Mrs. Jennifer Anderson, Lily’s mom, was gracious enough to let us come visit Lily at her house. You can imagine an entire team of high school girls crammed in a living room with Lily in the center keeping us all entertained.

I know at her age, I was petrified to even look someone in the eye. But Lily wasn’t shy at all and we hung out with this spunky little 11-year-old, who had the most contagious laugh, until it was dark out and time to go. I don’t even think it was a week later that I woke up to a message in the team’s group chat. Lily had passed away in the night.

Dread washed over me. I ran upstairs to my parents and I guess they already knew because they just grabbed me in a group hug while I cried. I remember saying over and over “This isn’t fair. This shouldn’t be happening to kids like Lily. Why do I get to be a normal teenager and Lily doesn’t?”

I remember later that day, I had an award ceremony at my high school for something irrelevant. I wore pink and green for Lily and could barely keep tears from springing up. My teammates, Marisa and Dakota, were there, and when we saw each other, we collided in a group hug and let the tears run freely.

We agreed that we were going to make the upcoming season all about playing our hearts out for Lily. By the time the season started, Coach Kaplan had decided that we would use our #11 jersey to honor Lily since she was 11 years old.

Each week, he picked someone to wear the jersey and a recording of Lily’s voice sang our national anthem before each game. I can still remember listening to it on the field and getting chills.

In addition to this, Lily’s mom and little sister, Audrey, came to all of our games. Just a side note here: Mrs. Jennifer Anderson is quite possibly the strongest and sweetest woman in the entire universe and is the best hugger EVER!

And of course, we were always all sporting some kind of lime green and pink attire. It was simply a must that we all be stylish. It’s what Lily would have wanted. Our motto for the season was “LILYSTRONG” and we strived to embody her character in the way we played.

The really amazing thing about Lily is the way she turned my team into a family. Throughout my senior season, I noticed so many changes in West Forsyth’s Women’s Lacrosse Team.

We stopped yelling at each other when frustrated. Instead, I watched my teammates pick each other up and say “It’s okay. We’ll get ‘em next time.” I heard team chants change from “Let’s Win!” to “Let’s Do It For Lily!”

I noticed myself caring less and less about the numbers on the scoreboard and more about the teammates sharing the field with me and how I’d do anything for them. Whoever said sports bring people together might be right.

But in our case, it wasn’t lacrosse that brought my team together. It was Lily.

At the end of the day, the scoreboard will never really matter. Sports are, after all, just a game. What really matters is playing with heart and enjoying the moment you’re in surrounded by parents, coaches, and friends that you love.

People that are truly inspirational don’t have to try to inspire people. Lily didn’t try to influence us, yet she changed our lives. We all wanted to be just like her. She was and still is our hero.

For our cancer awareness game of senior season, Coach Kaplan surprised us with PINK uniforms to wear in honor of Lily. And I’m not talkin’ our regular navy uniforms with a pink number. These things were cotton candy pink from head to toe.

We were anxious all day because the weather looked awful and it was supposed to pour. I was worried we wouldn’t be able to honor Lily in this special way. But when game time rolled around, it still hadn’t rained.

We lined up on the field and listened to Lily’s voice sing our national anthem and the strangest thing happened. A breeze swept across the field and the clouds started to drift away. It was almost as if Lily herself told Mother Nature to back off for a couple hours.

I don’t remember who we played in that game or if I even scored. Memory is a funny thing. Irrelevant details like that are forgotten. But I do know we won that game and were all so excited that we had the chance to make Lily proud.

I wondered if Lily could see us and if she was proud of us. After the game, while we were down on the field and all the parents were snapping pictures of us, one of the moms froze in her tracks and looked at us all. “You guys…” she said, “It’s the 11th day of the month.”

We looked at each other in shock. Lucky number 11. Then another person said, “Oh my gosh…We scored 11 goals in this game! Lily’s number again!” I got chills. We were stunned. One of my teammate’s jaw dropped and she screamed, “There’s ELEVEN seniors!” We were all speechless.

Coincidences like that just don’t happen.

That was Lily saying hello to us in a way only she could and in a way only we would recognize; with the number 11. I have never been more positive that Heaven and angels are real than in that moment. And I can say with certainty that Lily Anderson is the most stylish, sparkly and sassy angel of them all.

Shortly after that game ended, the skies opened up and it poured. I remember the whole ride home being absolutely at peace and I knew Lily had held the rain off and had been there on the field with us. Right now as I type this, I have chills. I think that memory will always give me chills.

Today, as a junior at the University of Georgia, I serve on the Executive Board of Relay For Life. I have met the most amazing people and made incredible friends. I am touched daily by the stories I hear from other people affected by cancer.

All of this has stemmed from wanting to impact others the way Lily impacted me. I am such a tiny part of her story, but she will always be a big part of mine.

Lily’s family has a motto based on her personality and attitude towards things. They say, “Live a YES life like Lily did.” Mrs. Jennifer even gave our team these beautiful bracelets that are shaped like the word “YES.”

Here’s the meaning behind the motto: When life hands you a bad card, you can choose to see the worst or you can say YES to seeing the positive. Choose to say YES to all life can offer you and love every minute of it. That’s what Lily did.

Like I said, you would never know this kid had cancer. She didn’t let it keep her down. She was fun, giggly, and added sparkle wherever she went. Lily was literally personified glitter.

Most importantly, Lily was personified love. She LOVED life. And she LOVED everyone around her.

A common thing people ask you when you’re in college is, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” I used to think, “Graphic Designer, Artist, Marketing Director…” And these are all great goals. But those are things I want to DO. Not who I want to BE.

I’ve come to realize that when I grow up, I want to BE just like Lily Anderson: loving, happy, positive and always willing to say YES to the best things this life has to offer.

Dusk is my least favorite part of the day. As a morning person who loves to see the world come alive with the sun painting pinks, blues, yellows, and sometimes even green across the morning sky, seeing the day end is always slightly sad. Not that a sunset isn’t gorgeous in its own right, mind you. They have their own special beauty, but that time after the sun has gone down and before the stars come out is always a bit depressing.

There was a time when I loved dusk. I was little, and the whole world was my playground. I spent whole days running through the pastures of my grandparents’ farm, terrorizing the barn cats, swinging on a splinter-filled wood swing, and (quite dangerously) exploring sink holes at the back of the property.

Despite all those wonderfully long, gorgeous summer days, the moments I remember fondly aren’t the sunrises when I woke to the smell of my Grandma cooking bacon and making biscuits from scratch or the searing, comforting heat of the Kentucky summer sun as I got sunburnt yet again while playing hide and seek with my cousins.

Instead, it was dusk: that now hated time.

Then, dusk was not the end of another day filled with midterms and stress about my future after graduation; it was the hour of lightning bugs.

Their lights would start slowly: first one, then another. They appeared like magic every few minutes just as the sun sank below the horizon. And then, they’d all light up at once. The pastures were full of them, and my Granddaddy, the man who always reminded me to value life more than anyone, would hand all of the grandchildren a mason jar and set us loose on the fields.

We’d gather our little balls of light into jars, using them to light our way back to the porch where we excitedly told whatever fairy tales we had concocted on the walk, and my Granddaddy would take us on his lap and listen to every single one.

I don’t get much time to enjoy dusk anymore.

On a typical night, I’m rushing from meeting to meeting or longing for my Mom’s cooking as I prepare yet another BLT for dinner. Amongst all the stress, I forget to stop and observe the quiet peacefulness of dusk and remember my Granddaddy’s comforting voice as I told one childish tale after another. But sometimes, I’ll catch a firefly lighting up the night sky out of the corner of my eye, and suddenly, I’m seven years old again.

The world is a magical land filled with happy dusks and adventures through a country field, and all is well, if for only just a moment, amongst the craziness of my college kid life.

We sucked, we were embarrassed, and we were defeated. For six years, I trained my ass, thinking that the outcome will be worth it. When the time came, I was wrong. I suffered for two years. During training, I questioned my ethics and morals among my teammates. Fights broke out people went through the motions. NO ONE cared. We were all sheepwalking. We were recruited to play and win games, but in reality we just showed up to practice and did what were told to do.

At the time, our leaders were hidden. We were faced with high expectations and delivered nothing. When my freshman year ended, we were given a t-shirt at the alumni game and pity “golf claps” from the alumni. The next season was a repeat.

During the spring season of sophomore year, the “cancers” and the “rats” were off the team.

That cleared the air for us, but we were still faced with a challenge. In order for our team to get on the same page we all needed to have a share interest. Yes, you can say that we were all here to play soccer, but that wasn’t good enough. Each person had different views and ideas of how we should play and that was a problem. There was no chemistry. So what did we do? Challenged our ideals. Challenging the status quo allowed everyone to rethink his ideals. That was the hardest thing to do. Seth Godin argues, “The easiest thing is to react. The second easiest thing is to respond. But the hardest things is to initiate.” Step one was crossed off.

Now we needed to change the culture. Our past culture was destroyed by selfishness, which led to a losing streak, then partying on weekends, and the cycle continued to repeat itself. In order for our team to get back on a high stature, we had to be passionate for what we stood for. We had to come to practice with a mindset that we WANT to be here and are not FORCED to be here.

“The real power of [a team] has nothing to do with the (external factors) and everything to do with the people. You don’t need a (object) to lead… you only need the desire to make something happen.” And we had that desire. It came from a shared experience.

Our weight trainer changed our mentality.

We suffered through workouts everyday for 15 weeks. It was the most effective thing for our team because we connected. When you suffer for that long with everyone then it clicks in your head that we need to get on board. That suffering turned into a desire. A desire only a few people can understand. A selective group. Our group, our team.

Godin states, “One of the most powerful of our survival mechanisms is to be part of a tribe, to contribute to (and take from) a group like-minded people.” Once you have a group of individuals that connect, you need to stay committed. Continue to believe in it. Our team believed in the workouts. We believed it will pay off, but there were no grantees. We believed in it because we had faith.

Four months later, my junior season started. We had a winning record; we made the semifinals of the Big Ten Tournament, and made the second round of the NCAA Tournament. For our team, that was a step closer to success. A team could be called many things. I never considered it as a tribe, until I understood it’s meaning. People who want success can only get it through shared interests. If no one else cares, how do you plan to exist? Someone else needs to have that shared interest in order for you to make something out of whatever it is.

“A movement is thrilling. It’s the work of many people, all connected, all seeking something better.”

Big thank you to Seth Godin and his work. Tribes has inspired millions of people to lead and be part of something great.

Being happy sounds so simple.

We’ve grown up learning “happy” as a common adjective to describe our mood and how we’re feeling. We are continuously finding ourselves evaluating whether we’re happy or sad, but sometimes we can lose sight of what makes us happy.

Whether it’s love, friendships, school, or work, it’s so ridiculously easy to get caught up in something else and completely forget what makes you happy. It sounds cheesy as anything, but I’ve realized in the last month or so, the only person that can truly make you happy is YOU.

I believe that you really have to lose sight of what makes you happy to end up finding it again, and I’ve experienced this first hand. Love is also a word that sounds so simple. We say we “love” so many things on a daily basis, but there is so much more to love than just feeling affectionate.

With love comes an endless amount of challenges.

I’ve only been in love once in my entire life, and it’s the most indescribable feeling in the world. After a fourteen-month relationship and whirlwind of emotions, fights, good times, bad times, weird times, awkward times, and everything in between, our relationship came to an end.

It was hard to pinpoint where our problems were coming from, but we both knew that we couldn’t bear to keep making each other unhappy. It was mutual, because we both realized how unhappy we were, but we had been ignoring it.

Sometimes, in relationships, you get so caught up in another person that you solely depend on them for everything, but mostly for your happiness. I had completely lost sight of what made me happy and who I was.

If anyone had told me this during any part of our relationship, I would’ve brushed it off and just kept thinking at the very least, I still had my boyfriend to fall back on. It took my lowest low and the very bottom for me to realize that I wasn’t necessarily unhappy with my relationship, I was unhappy with myself.

It’s a dreadful moment that you don’t want to come to terms with, but once I did I could literally feel a weight being lifted off of my shoulders. I spent the last fourteen months neglecting relationships with friends, neglecting my own feelings, and ultimately giving my all into a relationship that wasn’t giving back to me.

I wanted to believe every piece of advice I was given in the first weeks of my heart-breaking split, but I just couldn’t with the way I felt. I was still in love with my ex-boyfriend, and that wasn’t going to change right away.

I knew time would be the best thing for me, but who is ever really excited for time to make them feel better? I would’ve paid a million dollars to speed up the clock and fast-forward any amount of time just to swallow the grieving period and never look back. Boy, am I thankful that I didn’t have a million dollars and that speeding up time isn’t a real thing.

Time can be a cruel thing, but in the end time is our friend.

I learned more about myself in a month than I ever had in my whole life. Happiness depends completely on you, not anyone else. If you can learn to be happy with yourself, then the rest will work itself out.

To some people, it’s a foreign thought to even have to evaluate their happiness. Throughout the deterioration of my relationship, I would always look at people I knew and wonder to myself how they’re so happy, whether they were single, going through a hard time, or just had nothing exciting going on. I was plain jealous.

I wanted to know why that couldn’t be me and why I couldn’t have it figured out, even when I felt like I had it all, boyfriend included.

Happiness surely doesn’t come easy to some, but I promise that the sooner you start searching for it within yourself, the sooner you will become the person you want to be.

It took me seven minutes and 56 seconds to know when I was experiencing the best moment in my life.

It can be hard to quantify or operationally define such a moment. But I knew when I had mine, I knew it more than I knew my own name.

I sat soaking wet, voice hoarse, and blood pumping. My face was burning and I could not differentiate my sweat from the lake water that had been splashed upon me. We sat in our boat, drifting forward from the momentum that pushed us through the finish-line in just under 8 minutes. I looked in front of me at my fellow oarswomen, as a laugh erupted.

The girls in the boat started laughing with me, as each of us continued to gasp for air.

This many months later, I cannot remember what exactly their praises were, or what I returned. What remains with me, however, is the emotion that flooded our boat more than the water had.

The elation that wrapped around the five of us, holding us in that boat, was seemingly impenetrable. I called for my port-side rowers to take a few strokes to send us back to the dock. On the row back, all I could think about was that last 2000 meters.

Not only from the start of the race, but from the start of the season – my boat and I had been ready. Nervous, but ready. I sat at the stern of the boat, facing my rowers at the beginning of the race. My eyes were entirely fixated on aligning the path of our boat to run perfectly parallel to the buoys.

With a wink to my stroke seat, our boat launched and the force exerted in those next few minutes never once ceased. Occasionally seeing other boats gaining on us, I pushed us past our limits and into a space of pure, unbound power.

The agony that seeped out with each stroke was an agony driven by ambition and desire to succeed. As we pulled up to the dock and exited the boat, I could smell a difference in the air.

I looked at my rowers and congratulated them, as we had just become the second fastest boat on the East Coast.

Monika is also part of a phenomenal organization all AIESEC. In conjunction with our partnership with their organization, please see their blog here:

I know what you are thinking: this is the absolute worst day of your life.

Whether you studied for hours on end and still ended up getting a C-minus on that test, your formal date ditched you as soon as you got to the venue, or you totally face-planted getting off the bus in the rain, there is no way any good could come out of the situation, right?

Well, rest assured, you are not alone, and you will make it through all the embarrassment.

Here are five reasons why you should choose to be positive, no matter what.

1. Things are not as bad as they seem.

We have all been there: those days when nothing seems to be going your way and everything seems to be falling apart. Chances are, you have had this type of day before, and guess what? You made it! You have been through this once (or maybe multiple times), and you can do it again. Things may seem terrible, but the reality is, in 20 years you won’t remember this day, so keep your head up and keep going!

2. You will feel better.

Just trust me on this one. Even when everything is going wrong, if you are determined to have a positive outlook you will feel so much better. So go ahead, eat that Ben and Jerry’s, or binge watch Grey’s Anatomy. You earned it! After a hectic day taking time to do things you enjoy will leave you feeling refreshed and rejuvenated.

3. It puts things in perspective.

So, today was absolutely terrible. It is okay to be bummed out for a little while, as long as you realize the situation for what it is, a single event out of your whole life. You are young and I am here to tell you that, for what it’s worth, this won’t even matter in the grand scheme of things. You will have plenty more embarrassing and terrible days, but as long as you remember to keep your chin up, I promise you will be ready to take on whatever crazy curveballs life throws your way.

4. You will be healthier.

Okay, I am not saying you don’t have to eat your vegetables, or make that dreaded trek to the gym, but studies show people who think positively have lower stress levels, lower blood pressure, and get sick less often. So do something good for yourself and your health by not sweating over the small stuff.

5. Tomorrow will be better.

Think about it — if today is the absolute worst day of your life then, by default, tomorrow has to be better. And, hey, that’s a positive thought in and of itself. So no matter how bad things seem, remember that tomorrow is always a new day. There you have it! Now you are equipped with the knowledge to go and take on the world.

So channel your inner Beyoncé, jam out to your favorite music, or pet a small animal. Do anything and everything you can to make today the absolute best it can be. You deserve it!

Jackie is also part of a phenomenal organization all AIESEC. In conjunction with our partnership with their organization, please see their blog here:

We live in a small world where we must learn how to play with the cards we are dealt. Everything is part of a bigger picture and the slightest detail can make the biggest difference. Life is chaotic, confusing, and challenging, but that is part of what makes it beautiful and worth living: it is a beautiful disaster.

We ask ourselves why bad things happen to good people; we wonder why life is unfair. We live in a world with natural disasters, poverty, world hunger, war, and crime. Negativity surrounds us, but without it, we would not know what positivity is. How would we appreciate sunny skies without a little rain? If it never rained, then partly cloudy would be less than perfect.

Life is not perfect—everything needs a balance between the good and the bad—and sometimes, things are out of our control, but we must accept them for what they are and move forward. Learn how to play the cards life has dealt you.

I am still learning how to play, and I am doing the best I can. That is all we can do: our best. We all face different obstacles, some worse than others, but we are still living in the same hell just with different demons. One of my demons is depression.

Mental illness does not go away overnight. It is an everyday struggle consisting of medication, doctors, therapists, and yourself. You are your toughest critic, worst enemy, and the one person you cannot avoid. It is easier to fake a smile and pretend like everything is fine than to admit to others, sometimes even yourself, what is consuming you inside.

Depression feels like you are drowning: you see how close you are to the surface, but you still cannot come up for air.

You are falling apart inside with no way out. You become a different person and you miss who you used to be. You look at old pictures and wonder where that happy person went—you feel lost. Asking myself why this was happening to me did not help. Saying life is unfair did not help. Sulking in my sorrows did not get me anywhere. I felt hopeless, but thankfully I had someone who saved me from myself. He changed my perspective and brought sunshine into the storm clouds in my head. His name was Pablo; may he rest in peace.

Pablo was one of the greatest friends I ever had; he was an incredible person always full of joy—always lending a helping hand. He kept me centered. He always reminded me to count my blessings instead of my problems; he always gave the best advice.

He taught me how to see the negatives as blessings in disguises. Life is a learning experience and everything happens for a reason. It is hard to understand what that reason is, but I believe life is not meant to be understood. There is not a survival guide to life; life is not black and white—it is grey.

Perspective is everything: “some people look at sunsets as the end of something beautiful that once was: the day. Others see it as simply a new beginning to a different, but equally beautiful, thing: the night.” The day I understood everything was the day I stopped trying to figure everything out.

The day I knew peace was the day I let everything go—I let it all go.

My situation became irrelevant when I saw it as a potential blessing, as a learning experience, as an opportunity to better myself. I changed my perspective and I changed my situation. Everything happens for a reason, and like Douglas Adams put it: “I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I [know] I have ended up where I needed to be.” I learned how to play the cards I was dealt with.

Stop focusing on the negatives and become the best version of yourself. Learn to appreciate what you have and make the best of it. Strive for excellence and never get discouraged by the journey because you are capable of doing anything you set your mind too.