I've always known who I am. I've always known the kind of person I want to be and the things that I love and care about. I've never sat and doubted my core character, my values, or the definition of who I am to myself. That's one thing I've prided myself on, is that I haven't ever lost my sense of self.

Yet, if I reflect back on this year, I feel like I have lost this sense of self. The concrete sense of surety that I had for myself feels like it has been slightly eroded away at with the constant rush of being on campus. It feels like maybe I've really lost myself, or like I can't remember what's important to me and who I want to be. Or rather, I still know who I want to be, but I have a cognitive dissonance between what I know myself as and how I have been acting and leading my life recently.

I have been indecisive, unsure, scared, anxious, and largely have given up on things that I once held as absolutely essential to me. Reflecting back, I realized I hadn't seen some of my friends in what felt like forever, I hadn't opened a book in 5 months, I hadn't written in my journal in weeks, I hadn't watched any food documentaries. I felt...unfulfilled. I haven't decided yet if this was because I was just that busy and didn't have time to stop and do these things or if I was starting to think that these things weren't as important to me anymore.

There's a sense of nostalgia, a deep panging feeling of loss when you think about the things you used to care so deeply about and now find yourself not really thinking about anymore. Like reading. I hadn't thought about books in literal months. I hadn't thought about the stories I used to love to read, my favorite authors, cuddling up on the couch with a mug of chai and just reading, getting fully immersed into a story.

Before, even when I was busy, there was a constant longing to have the time to sit down and read. I would glance at my favorite reading spot and think ahead with excitement to the moment when I would get to finally claim that space as my own for the next few hours. But somehow, I stopped even having that longing. Was I actually that busy with life's various shenanigans? Or did I just lose that part of myself? If I had lost it, what did I replace it with? Was it worth it?

It was like this for so many different things that once made up the fiber of who I was. Not just the things I liked to do, but the values I held. The drive and high standard that I held myself to. The ability that I had to be sunshine and welcoming warmth no matter where I was or who I was with. The resolve I had to always put my friends and their needs first. The love I had even for trying new things and never saying no to experiences. Was it possible that student life had truly broken all this resolve? Or was I just making excuses for losing myself to other priorities? Was I allowing things to consume my time and my sense of self? What was happening?

Perhaps the worst part about the situation was that it was too damn noisy to think about any of that. I was surviving on my 16-minute power naps and life was moving at super-sonic speed and I didn't have the time to think about such an existential topic as my "sense of self." I don't think I ever even realized that something was wrong until I got to spring break.

I spent it with my brother and his girlfriend in Seattle, who unknowingly reminded me of who I was. Just by spending time with them, I remembered that I was someone who loved to laugh, even just at her own stupid jokes that no one else might understand. I was someone who loved books, who could spend hours in a book store, sprawled out on the floor with piles of eclectic titles all around her. I was someone who thought deeply about things like linguistics and was fascinated by tiny nuances in human life. Who wasn't afraid of trying new things. Who loved Bollywood music and movies and wasn't ashamed of it. Who loved TALKING. Can you believe that I had ever forgotten how to talk?

With my brother, it was like the minute I stepped off the plane and saw him, I turned on a faucet and I just couldn't stop talking. Going to bookstores, donut shops, walking around on waterfronts, spending time alone just thinking. I couldn't stop laughing, I couldn't stop... being myself.

I got some fantastic alone time, away from everyone, away from the noise of campus and student life. I wandered through the city, wandered through Pike Place Market, not really thinking about anything and just reconnecting with myself. I bought myself a half pint of raspberries and sat on the waterfront and wrote about my life and everything I had been thinking about. I wrote for hours and hours. I stared at the ocean, at sunny Mount Rainer.

I looked through my camera roll at old photos. I didn't necessarily reflect about myself or about my sense of self, I didn't ask myself to redefine who I was. Instead, I just took the time to be me again. I shrugged off responsibilities for those two days, I shrugged off the "I should's" and "Why haven't I's" and I just existed as myself. I can't really explain what happened or what changed, but I walked away from that waterfront feeling fulfilled. Feeling more connected to myself. I think it was being away from noise, being away from all the things and people on campus that pull me in 100 different directions. I think it was laughing with my brother again like I hadn't in so long. I think it was being goofy and letting my brain entertain itself with whatever it wanted to think about. I think it was the simple act of taking a proper break from everything.

It was those moments of solitudes that reconnected me to myself, and honestly, I'm more than grateful for it. You should always allow yourself to change and experience new things or to add skills and values into your repertoires. But you should never feel as though you've lost yourself. And taking moments to be alone with yourself, taking time to entertain yourself with just your own thoughts, might be exactly what you need to reconnect.