By: Minh Tran, Zuckerberg College of Health Sciences Well-Being Leader

Like many of you, “I don’t know” is my default response to questions when I’m simply unsure.

“What are you eating later today?”

“I don’t know.”

“How do you think you did on the test the other day?”

“I don’t know.”

“How do you feel overall?”

“I don’t know…”

It can be hard to grasp how we feel because emotions invoke something inside of us that can’t always be tangibly put into words.  We constantly try to chase how we feel. We might be able to articulate how we feel in a fleeting moment, but rarely overall. I can tell you what I feel in a moment but not how I feel as a complete human being, which leaves me with the phrase: ”I don’t know”. 

For a long time, it was something I struggled with because I never liked the response “I don’t know”. To me it meant uncertainty and failure of knowing, which meant I lacked the ability to understand my own mind. It meant I was emotionally unaware of myself, and in a way, I felt lost. Who am I to others if I don’t even know who I am to myself? 

Responding with “I don’t know” felt like I solidified my emotions into a permanent state of confusion. It felt like a concrete answer, and therefore unchanging to who I am, so I felt like I would never know and I wouldn’t be able to discover the version of myself who does. However, one conversation really shifted my perspective and it made me realize that phrase is what makes me innately human. 

I was sitting by the Charles River with a good friend, talking about life and how we were feeling.

Everytime she asked me how I really felt, I kept saying “I don’t know, I just don’t know”. I was getting frustrated with myself because I couldn’t give her a real answer. She could tell that I wasn’t satisfied with that response. I kept saying “I don’t know why I don’t know”. She reassured and me and told me it’s okay to not know. I told her that I wish I knew why I didn’t know, and that I had an answer. However, she said it takes time to know how you feel, and not having an answer doesn’t mean you’ll never have one; you just need to talk and live to better understand. In that moment, a switch clicked in me. I didn’t know now; I just didn’t know yet.

You may not know in the moment, but you are always searching for the version of yourself that knows. Self-discovery isn’t pre-written; you are actively writing your life as it happens, so not knowing now doesn’t necessarily mean you won’t know later. When you feel lost because your emotions may be too complex or unstable to label, tell yourself “I don’t know … yet”. You may not know now. You may not know later. You might never fully figure it out. However, life isn’t about having that answer; it’s about chasing that “yet.” You have your whole life for self-discovery and understanding who you are as an individual; it doesn’t stop when someone asks you, “How are you?” You’re not confined to the individual you are in the moment when you answer that question. Your answer may change; it may stay the same, or you might not even have an answer.

So when I ask myself how I feel overall, I tell myself, “I don’t know yet”, because my life and emotions are not yet finished; I’m still living. 

By Adhishree Shah, Francis College of Engineering Well-Being Leader

Lately, I have been trying to make ordinary days feel a little more fun. Not in a dramatic, “change your life” kind of way. More like putting on a good playlist for the walk to class, getting a drink I like, wearing an outfit that makes me feel good, or convincing myself that doing laundry with music on is somehow a whole experience. Most college days are honestly ordinary. Class, assignments, food, errands, repeat. So, I have started appreciating the small things that make those days feel nicer. 

Romanticizing the Ordinary 

I used to think that for a day to feel “good,” something exciting had to happen. Maybe I had to go somewhere, accomplish something important, or have some kind of memorable experience. But most days are not like that. Most days are classes, assignments, meals, errands, laundry, and trying to remember everything on your to-do list. And honestly, if I only wait for the exciting days to enjoy myself, I am probably going to spend a lot of time waiting. 

That is why I have started romanticizing the ordinary a little more. If I have to walk somewhere, I might as well put on a playlist I like. If I have to get groceries, I might as well take my time, look around, and pick up something I am excited to eat later. If I have to study, I might as well find a comfortable spot and bring a snack. It does not magically make homework fun, unfortunately, but it helps. 

The Candy Basket 

One of my favorite little habits has become my candy basket. College somehow always has free candy somewhere like at events, tables, offices, or random places around campus. Whenever I see one of my favorites, I pick up a piece or two. Every now and then, I also buy a few that I really like. 

Little by little, I ended up with a whole basket full of candy. Now, if I feel like I handled my day well, finished something I had been putting off, or just need a small pick-me-up, I grab something from the basket. It is such a tiny thing, but that is kind of the point. Not every reward has to be big. Sometimes a piece of your favorite candy at the end of a long day is enough to make you smile. 

The Small Things Count Too 

I have also started giving myself more credit for the little wins. Finishing an assignment I had been avoiding. Cleaning my room after a chaotic week. Cooking instead of ordering food. Getting enough sleep for once. Laughing for no reason on a call with a long-distance friend. Making it through a day I was not really looking forward to. 

We are so used to celebrating the big things, like a good grade, an internship, or a finished semester, that we forget to notice the smaller moments in between. But those moments make up most of our days. I think that is what romanticizing your life really means. Not pretending that everything is perfect and not ignoring stress. But just paying attention to the parts that feel good. 

College moves fast. It is easy to spend one week waiting for the next and suddenly realize the semester is almost over. So lately, I have been trying to slow down enough to notice more of it: the walks, the music, the random conversations, the candy after a long day. None of it is huge, and maybe it does not have to be. Sometimes finding joy is not about waiting for something exciting to happen. It is about giving yourself something small to smile about, even on an ordinary Tuesday.