I’m watching Mona Lisa Smile and realizing how much things have changed. I don’t take advantage of my position in the world. I was born and given the option to choose my path, essentially to do as I wish. When I was younger, I hadn’t a clue to which direction I was going. I tried out dance and gymnastics, none of which extended further than a few introductory classes and moments of pure embarrassment. Sports weren’t even an option for me, the clutziest girl in the world. Then, I found the stage. At age six, I fell head over heels in love for the first time. Amidst the opening monologues in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and some “You’re Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile,” I became hooked. That became my dream. High school, however, ruined my dream. I spent the majority of my time in an environment that convinced me that I wasn’t particularly talented. I witnessed my best friends playing their dream roles and I lived in constant rejection, low theater scores, and criticism. It always seemed like I would finally get my chance, but there was always someone else who got their moment instead. It absolutely broke my heart. I at least had the escapism of hopping on a bus with my mom and making things happen. I would prove my worth to myself at auditions and jobs where I finally got the encouragement I needed to believe in myself. When the camera was rolling or flashing, I felt alive and had complete confidence. I graduated without any support of my teachers and peers, but with hope from the people that mattered the most. Then came my next dream. Fashion was never really purposeful, but sprung from my love for theatrics, creativity, and self-expression. When I dressed myself, I was able to show to the world that I am different. I used to try to fit in with mall labels and fads, but I found, as I got older that I am who I am. Conforming wasn’t what I was born to do. It is easier to conform, but much more gratifying to finally accept who you are. I use my garments as a canvas to convey my feelings, interests, experiences, inspirations, and aspirations. Ever since I stepped into the Hearst building to model, I knew that I wanted to work there. Looking around, seeing the most gifted editors dressed in their personalities, I fell in love for the second time. I crave being surrounded by a constant influx of ideas. I want to be in a room with people who sacrifice their time and personal lives to communicate their heart of hearts into a few hundred, glossy pages. It’s what I need, and what I’m finally working towards. For the first time in my life, I feel proud of myself. I have both my dreams, and it’s not always the easiest to balance them both, but I’m trying so hard to make it happen for myself. As someone has grained into me this past year, we weren’t born to follow. I can follow my dreams and my heart, but I refuse to conform. I choose to create and I choose to put myself out there and face rejection, in both paths that I have chosen. I’m just trying to do what makes me happy.

“Dear Betty, I came to Wellesley because I wanted to make a difference. But to change for others is to lie to yourself. My teacher, Katherine Watson, lived by her own definition and would not compromise that, not even for Wellesley. I dedicate this, my last editorial, to an extraordinary woman, who lived by example and compelled us all to see the world through new eyes. By the time you read this, she’ll be sailing to Europe, where I know she’ll find new walls to break down, and new ideas to replace them with. I’ve heard her called a quitter for leaving, an aimless wanderer. But not all who wander are aimless, especially those who seek truth beyond tradition, beyond definition, beyond the image. I’ll never forget you.”

� Louis MacNeice “Autumn Journal” 1939 (via juliennvll)