As a child, I enjoyed painting and sketching. My parents would even buy me books and material to use, and I would always look forward to art class at school. When my parents, teachers, and classmates showered me with compliments, every piece of artwork became a treasure to me. Each one filled me with a feeling of great pride, and the tingling sensation would surge through me again every time I presented it to someone new. It might even be more accurate to say that I enjoyed, more than the art and more than the creative process itself, the satisfying moment of praise. Years later, as I rummaged through my belongings, packing to move away for college, I came across these old works of art. It had been years since I had created any piece of artwork; my interests had changed and my pre-med biology focus suddenly reminded me I had changed greatly from the child who loved art. To be honest, when I looked at my artwork at that moment, and every one I found even years after, I could not care less if they ended up being thrown away. I could not remember the last time I showed my artwork to someone. The time when these treasures were valuable to me had unknowingly been left behind, along with the child who would find my current self unfamiliar. As an adult, I found value in new aspects of life, and even in the years I spent at college, those would change. What we value in life seems to parallel our own character, and reasonably, for me, it changed as I matured.

When I think about what would brighten my day, as the person I am now, I think about the people in my life with whom I could possibly spend it with. I don’t have any particular activities, or any specific places or environmental conditions, when I think about an ideal day. I think about spending it with someone I love. If I close my eyes to imagine the scene, I picture fun and laughter, tears coming out of our eyes, rolling onto the floor, consumed in our hilarity. I have had days like this before, with some of my very close friends, and what I enjoyed most about these times was the comfort and the joy. I felt comfort in the presence of these friends, unafraid to be my true unfiltered self. I felt joy knowing I had someone who shared my humor, experiences, and values, and not to mention the comedy was certainly amusing. I would always dread the end of the day, and sometimes this lead to sleepovers, but I wanted to forever live in a moment where I was connected and happy with someone I loved.

One part of these kinds of days I would not really remember is the shy and awkward beginning of every one of my interactions with friends. I like to tell myself I have no problem meeting new people and socializing in general, but this might be an illusion I fall into when I spend time with my close friends. With many people I meet for the first time, I shrink into my awkward personality and become unable to reach that ideal moment. It took many years for me to realize that was normal; I realized there were some people I could connect better with, and some people whose interests and values simply did not overlap with mine. No one can be friends with every single person they meet, and that was, although common sense to me now, a tough reality to accept when I was much younger. Often, it was difficult not to blame myself for the inability to make a connection with every individual I met, but now, I believe we bond with the people we are meant to have in our lives, and it’s possible that we are better off not knowing the ones who don’t become part of our lives. On the other hand, we might be arbitrarily given particular characters and personalities that make us inclined towards other particular characters and personalities. No matter the method to our social interactions, there are clearly forces out of our control, and at the end of the day, I humbly appreciate the people I do have in my life.

The obvious contrast between the child I described and the person I am now clearly comes from where value is placed. As a child, I associated my self-worth in the praise of the adults around me and the compliments of my peers, and consequently, the artwork that would allow me this pride became valuable to me. As both my interests and character developed over the years, these art pieces became no more valuable than trash to me, and my self-worth was shaped by the beliefs and morals I held as an individual, and supported by the loved ones in my life. While these two parts of me seem to be completely contrasting, I believe they both reveal the part of me always searching for a way to feel confident about myself. Although much has changed, the core of my personality might have always been the same, and as I grew older, I simply found better ways to achieve my inner strength.