Seven minutes upon return from Starbucks, and three-quarter lengths deep into my green tea frappuccino, hundreds of beauty tutorials stood in front of me on replay—drowning out everything around me.

I suddenly found myself tugging at my cheeks to see how much collagen they contained, checking the evenness of my eyebrows, and rubbing my skin to test how smooth it was: quickly coming to realize this was doing absolutely nothing but adding unnecessary stress that would do nothing to improve who I was, or most-importantly the aura I gave off as a person.

This is when my constant routine of beauty tutorials and green tea frappuccino's (because matcha is supposedly better for you than coffee, right?) came to a close, for a while.

Months prior, I stood in front of a large flatscreen, watching the New Year's ball come closer and closer to dropping. An overwhelming stack of thoughts began to fill my head until I decided how the year would go with a simple resolution that would change absolutely everything. My hands began to clasp when I made this little goal, one that would change my life—and I had no idea.

Weeks later, my favorite over-worn Vans stepped foot onto a beautiful marble floor, spread throughout the diameter of a palace-looking building. Each room held different intricate themes with unique layouts that would make someone, like myself, want to remain inside forever. The silver glossed countertops and deep rows of supplies intimidated me greatly, especially after realizing I was here, and could never turn back.

I pulled myself toward the counter, mentioned my name, and was immediately guided to the quilted leather chair which I will always remember—where I sat for three-and-a-half hours, awaiting the reinvention of myself.

Handing over my debit card, I suddenly realized what I had done. Not only had I felt amazing, but my hair looked flawless. On February 24th of 2016, I took a step that I didn’t think I would ever take and began to make the first small mark on my New Year's resolution.

My first little mark on overcoming the fear of change—a fear that had been constant prior to 2016, and a fear which would diminish by the end of it. With my confidence beginning to rise, I walked out of the hair salon with my shining platinum blonde hair, and this is when I knew I could not stop here.

Two days later, "I hopped off the plane at L.A.X. with a dream and my cardigan." Totally kidding, but I did hop off the plane in Turks and Caicos, and I remember the overwhelming sense of satisfaction with myself.

Throughout my life, I have always tried to remain intact with my true self, while making sure to let those feelings out, yet during this time of my life my feelings started to become suppressed. My untamed schedule throughout Junior year of high school put me in an area where my creativity and self-worth started to stray, and I actually started to see myself slip into the idea of “normal.” Yeah, kind of scary.

Throwing my suitcase onto my freshly made, tropical smelling bed, I quickly threw on a pair of fluorescent pink swim shorts paired with Armani sunnies, and ran toward the beach while grabbing a piña colada (yum!) on the way. I tossed my fingers through my freshly bleached hair and quickly knew I never wanted to go back.

After seven days by the beach with a deep tan and abstract outfits which represented my true illumination and energy, I no longer felt afraid of having my appearance be the canvas of how I truly represent myself. The brown haired Chandler fit perfectly with societies norms, but the platinum blonde hair fit perfectly with me, and I was feeling better than ever.

Throughout this process, my confidence started to skyrocket. The initial fear of change kickstarted my life, as the realization process pushed me to finally start living. If it wasn’t for that aching fear of how I was perceived, I wouldn’t have thought of a resolution which would bring back myself—the one I had lost somewhere along the way.

Upon return from Turks and Caicos, I began doing things I loved most. 2016 was filled with countless shopping trips, new absolutely amazing friendships, uncovering the style I wanted to have, loving photos of myself again, feeling inspiration from where life adventures would take me, taking care of myself, frequent trips to the hair salon, developing my social media platform, putting myself out there, and most importantly, doing things that I wanted to do for myself.

I was being Chandler.

I knew it was gone in August of 2016 on the bus to New York City, touring multiple colleges with the dedication to live there the following year, seven hours away from home. I was no longer afraid for the public to see me—in fact, I loved it. I was no longer worried about being away from home, or being cautious of how strangers perceived my appearance, and I was excited to take the step to further areas of change.

I stood again, in front of a large flatscreen, watching the New Years ball come closer and closer to dropping. An overwhelming stack of thoughts began to fill my head, yet this time, the thoughts surrounded the college essay I was typing, and the past New Years resolution I had made for myself. I unclasped my hands, looked down at my stylish outfit, into the mirror to see my platinum hair paired with a subtle smile on my face, and back down again at my college essays; ten of them being for New York schools. New York, I thought—where I had realized my fear of change had diminished.

I no longer feared change. Another smile appeared on my face when I realized, in fact, I had embraced it, and I still thank myself every single day.