By: Nokomis Bramantecohen, College of Fine Arts, Humanities, and Social Sciences Well-Being Leader

Introduction:

Hello! It has now officially come to that bittersweet time of the year where seniors are buying their grad dresses, suits, heels, wrapping up all their capstones and thesis for classes, and finally… picking up their graduate cap, gown, tassel, and stoles. In complete transparency, going into University Crossing had made me really emotional. All of the friends, peers, and classmates that I have made along the way were all there and it was such a special moment. It is mind boggling to me that in just a month we will all be going on our own separate journeys. I am going to use this blog space to give me the time to reflect and write to past self and also write about my future self! 

Letter to My Younger Self: 

If I could go back and talk to my younger freshman year self, the first thing I would say is to be kinder to yourself. You spent so much time trying to map everything out, wanting a perfect plan, but life doesn’t work like that. The people you meet, the opportunities you get, and the paths that you take… none of it is guaranteed and that is okay! 

Another piece of information that I would want to say would be that no one is going to “save” you, and that is not a bad thing! It just means that you have more power, strength, and confidence than you think! Of course there are mentors, peers, and a social circle to help you out, but at the end of the day, you know yourself better than anyone else ever will. So trust that and trust your gut!

And lastly, stop being so hard on yourself! You’re constantly stuck either replaying the past or worrying about the future, and you often forget to be where you are. It’s much easier said than done, but try to let go of what doesn’t serve you, especially the hurt that is caused by others. Holding onto it only drains you. If it has no purpose within your life, then it doesn’t deserve your energy! Always remember to have confidence in yourself, you are way more capable than you give yourself credit for. 

Letter to My Future Self: 

I hope you’ve come to realize that you were always going to be okay, whether you reached milestones alone or alongside others. I hope you’ve learned how to take up space, to use the resources around you, and lean into the support systems you once hesitated to trust. 

Independence is important, but so is asking for help. I hope you’ve found balance in that. 

Right now, you’re working towards becoming a social worker, planning to attend Salem State University and fully commit to the program. I hope you follow through. I hope you found purpose in helping others, while still taking care of yourself too!

I hope you didn’t let rejection define you. That you learned to celebrate both the big wins and the small ones, like simply getting through a hard day or sticking to your routine. Not everything is meant for you, and that’s okay.

I also hope you made time to explore the world. To step outside of what’s familiar and immerse yourself in places, people, and experiences that changed you. Because at the end of the day, I hope you chose to be rich in memories rather than just money.

More than anything, I hope you become someone you’re proud of, someone who inspires others simply by being authentic, resilient, and open to growth.

By: Fallon Weiss, Kennedy College of Sciences Well-Being Leader

There’s a strange kind of quiet that comes with writing a final post like this.

Not the heavy kind, not an ending exactly, but something much more softer than that. Like the moments after a show closes, when the stage is empty but still holds the shape of everything that happened there. That’s a little like how this experience feels to me now.

Being part of the Off-Broadway Players here has been one of the most meaningful parts of my time in college. Not just because of the performances, but because of everything in between: the rehearsals that didn’t go as planned, the moments of doubt, the times when I wasn’t sure if I was doing enough or being enough.

The truth is, I’ve learned that growth rarely feels like growth when you’re in the middle of it.

Learning to be comfortable with struggling is difficult. It goes against instinct. We want to feel capable, steady, sure of ourselves. Struggle feels like a sign that something is wrong. But over time, I’ve started to see it differently. Struggling doesn’t mean you’re failing: it means you’re in the process of learning. It means you’re stretching into something new, even if it feels uncomfortable or uncertain.

And a lot of that growth doesn’t happen alone.

Asking for help has been one of the hardest things for me to learn. It can feel vulnerable in a way that’s hard to explain, like admitting you don’t quite have it all together when it seems like everyone else does. But every time I’ve pushed past that hesitation and reached out, I’ve been reminded of something important: people want to support you. You’re not as alone as your mind might make you feel.

There’s a kind of quiet confidence that comes from that realization. Not the kind that says you can do everything by yourself, but the kind that reminds you that you don’t have to.

At the same time, I’ve learned how important it is to make space for yourself. Not just to rest, but to actually live. Making time for yourself means making time for the things that bring you back to who you are. Your creativity. Your joy. Your sense of play. The things that don’t have to be productive to be meaningful. It’s easy to let those things fall away when life gets busy, but they’re often the very things that help you stay grounded.

And maybe the biggest thing I’m taking with me is this: 

You are always more than you think you are.

More capable than you give yourself credit for. More resilient than you realize in difficult moments. More deserving of patience, care, and kindness: especially from yourself.

It’s easy to overlook your own growth because you experience it gradually, day by day. But that doesn’t make it any less real.

As I finish my time as a KCS Well-Being Leader, I don’t feel like I have everything figured out. But I do feel more comfortable not having all the answers. I trust myself more. I understand the value of leaning on others. And I know how important it is to make space for the parts of life that bring me joy.

If there’s anything I hope you take with you, it’s this:

Give yourself permission to struggle.

Give yourself permission to ask for help.

Give yourself permission to take up space in your own life.

And don’t forget, as I’ve always said: 

You are already more than enough, even while you’re still growing. 

This might be the end of this chapter, but it’s not the end of the story.