The Art in Being an Absolute Mess

This week’s title track is, without question, “Sex and the city” by Audrey Hobert. Because honestly? That’s exactly what life feels like right now - chaotic, exciting, and a little hungover around the edges (not actually, don’t worry Mom.) Every five or so minutes I find myself thinking: what the hell has this week even been? It’s been a minute since I’ve written, but I promise I have a solid reason. I started my first week of college! Real college. The kind with thousands of students, sprawling campuses, and everyone pretending to know what they’re doing.

After finishing my media certification last May, I decided to start over as a freshman, pursue journalism seriously, and step into a completely new environment. One I never thought I would get to be a part of after my dented high school experience. Even in just seven days, it already feels like I’ve entered an entirely different timeline. Every day has been so unique: new people, new routines, new perspectives. And while it’s been overwhelming at times, I keep reminding myself that this is the right phase to be a little messy, to be unpolished, to be figuring it out in real time. Everyone here is in the same position - learning, experimenting, navigating their own version of chaos. It’s liberating to acknowledge that perfection isn’t required to be fully present in your own life. Quite the opposite, in fact.

If You Think You Know You… You Don’t

This first week of college has been a full-on crash course in both social and personal growth. I’ve met new friends who challenge me, who make me laugh in ways I didn’t expect, who remind me how refreshing it is to connect without overthinking. I’m realizing that confidence isn’t about perfection - it’s about presence. The attention I get isn’t proof of worth; it’s a reflection of energy: how I carry myself, the humor I bring, the openness I allow in conversations. My outfits, my choices, even my daily routines - they matter less as markers of who I “should” be and more as extensions of who I am. And honestly? It’s ridiculously fun to experiment with style in this space, to play dress-up in ways I never allowed myself before.

At the same time, this week has been a reminder that growth lives in discomfort. Going out, meeting new people, navigating complex social dynamics, and even dealing with minor setbacks - all of it has forced me to adjust in ways I didn’t anticipate. Being messy, making mistakes, and having moments of uncertainty isn’t a sign of weakness; it’s proof that I’m fully engaged in the process. Each misstep or awkward moment teaches me something new about my limits, my boundaries, and my resilience. I’m learning that to truly grow, you have to show up - even when it’s awkward and you don’t have all the answers.

The Death of My Inner Clean Girl

As much as I’d like to claim I’ve held on to the neat, organized, SANE version of myself, I’d be lying. The “clean girl” who once obsessed over standards and control is fading - not because my values have changed, but because I’ve realized that there’s more to life than enforcing strict rules on myself while I’m still figuring out who I am. I’ve started experimenting, making choices that feel fully and awkwardly authentic instead of curated, and it’s given me an unexpected sense of freedom.

It’s okay to change your mind. It’s okay to try things you previously swore off.

That earlier version of me clung to order and predictability because it felt safe. But safety can come at the cost of growth. Letting go of the rigid expectation to be perfectly composed doesn’t mean losing discipline - it means embracing honesty with yourself. I’m still learning how to balance freedom with responsibility, but the lessons from my “clean girl” phase remain valuable: she taught me discipline, self-respect, and a baseline for accountability. Now, I’m layering that with courage, curiosity, and a willingness to embrace imperfection.

As F. Scott Fitzgerald once said, “Vitality shows not only in the ability to persist but in the ability to start over.” I feel that vitality now. I’m starting over, and I’m learning that part of living fully is letting yourself be messy, inconsistent, and human.

The Come and Go

Another thing I’ve learned this week is the importance of letting life flow. Nothing is permanent - people, experiences, even feelings will come and go. Instead of seeing this as a loss, I’ve started viewing it as opportunity. When something leaves, it makes space for something better suited to the moment. Life isn’t about clinging to every detail or controlling every outcome; it’s about learning to move with the rhythm of change, even when it feels unpredictable.

This perspective removes a lot of unnecessary pressure. Not finding a certain item in your dorm? That small inconvenience could lead to an unexpected encounter or connection - a conversation that turns into a friendship, or a shared laugh that makes the day feel lighter. Experiencing a setback in a friendship or romance? That opens space for relationships that are more aligned with your values, energy, and the version of yourself you’re becoming. Even moments of disappointment or discomfort are no longer failures - they’re opportunities for growth, reflection, and realignment.

Embracing this flow has made me more observant, more present, and more grateful for the small details that often go unnoticed. I notice the way light falls across my dorm room window in the morning, the rhythm of laughter spilling from the cafe around twelve o’clock, or the quiet satisfaction of a perfectly brewed iced coffee in between classes. Every experience, big or small, feels like a piece of the puzzle that I didn’t know I was assembling until it clicked.

I’m starting to understand that letting go isn’t a passive act - it’s still just as active as bringing something in. It requires trust: trust in yourself, trust in timing, and trust that the universe (or the Lord, or circumstance - whatever you want to call it) has a way of delivering exactly what’s needed, when it’s needed. When I stop resisting, I notice the subtle ways life gives me what I didn’t even know I was looking for. That freedom, that sense of flow, has been one of the most unexpected and grounding lessons of this week.

What This Column Means Now

Writing here has become more than an outlet - it’s a conversation. The fact that people actually relate to these words is humbling and motivating. Even when this column feels scattered, that reflects where I am in life: in transition, learning, exploring, and adapting. The stories, moments, and reflections I capture here are snapshots of growth, and I hope they remind readers that imperfection is not a failure. It’s part of the process.

Life isn’t tidy, and neither will these columns be. But in that mess, there’s honesty, discovery, and connection. And I’m here for all of it.

As always, thank you for reading!