By: Fahad Alden, College of Fine Arts, Humanities, and Social Sciences

When people put you down, it’s not just a thing of their words; it’s the way that it sticks with you and the way you start to believe it. I once wrote in my journal, “Am I really too eccentric? Did I only win this award because I’m a diversity pick? Am I really single because I’m not cool, like they always told me?” These thoughts kept repeating in my mind, based on voices I had in my life for years growing up, and maybe has happened to you as well. 

Looking back on my journal, reading this recent entry I wrote stood out to me, reminding me that words really stick with us more than we think.

2024 was really hard for me. I lost an election. I lost someone really close in my life, and I had a physical breakdown. I had to literally go back home for a week and was unable to walk. This took such a toll on me that I started withdrawing and isolating myself. I had been working since I was 16 and achieving benefits, but it also made me hardened by a lot of competition. As cliché as it sounds, a lot of my behavior ended up attracting really unspeakable things—such as an old friend photoshopping a picture of me onto a terrorist, or when I had friends years ago purposely leave bad reviews of a book I wrote a while ago.  

I ended up subconsciously internalizing those situations, believing I deserved that treatment and that I was worthless. As a result, I also began isolating myself from other people, but after a while of hiding, I decided to go back on my walks. Holding yourself hostage in your own home can really mess with your mind.

Before heading out on my walk, I looked in the mirror, and I felt I was staring at someone I could barely recognize. My eyes were so sunken. I had been wearing the same sweatshirt for a couple of days, and I had dark circles under my eyes. Part of me was embarrassed to leave my house, but I felt God was telling me I needed to go on this walk.

 As I walked by the high school nearby, a dad came up to me and said that my article had really helped their son, and they gave me a hug. I felt so broken and worthless but this interaction solidified to me that I had purpose. 

I eventually went back to therapy, saw a doctor to fix my health issues, and started surviving again. There was healing in the breaking, so I began writing again. I came to realize how I had been and how I wished I had a big brother. I decided to start a YouTube channel where I could share all the lessons I had learned from my experiences.

I thought if I could turn my darkest moments into stories for others, all of this would’ve been worth it. So, I went through my journal, wrote down my lessons in my notebook, and worked with a professor who helped me bounce off ideas and empowered me to share my story. I felt that it was okay to lean into my pain.

For so long, I hid a lot of things about myself. I tried to be put together. I tried to be intellectual and an all-American boy, but that wasn’t me. I’m never gonna be the smartest or coolest guy in the room. I’m just gonna be the guy you wanna grab coffee with and talk to.

So, I started a YouTube channel with no script, just me and the many lessons I learned from my failures. I feel like my mini series—where I’m talking about friendships, getting jobs, and dealing with depression—is my most honest work yet. It’s not that I wasn’t honest before, but when you’re young, there’s so little you know about yourself. As I’ve grown older, I feel like I’ve evolved so much. I hope to keep making videos and doing theatre work as long as I can. Creation is part of my healing process. 

Check out my YouTube channel here to hear more about my life lessons and experiences.