Over the past few weeks, I have noticed a trend in my life. Lots of people, including several of my Resident Assistants, my roommate, my sister, and my close friends have all asked when I am going to be applying to be an RA. This did not come as a surprise to me at all. I am, without a doubt, the mom of my friend group. All of my friends flock to me with their friend problems, health questions, hole-filled clothing, and mysteriously stained carpets. They come to me for the granola bars, ibuprofen, and sewing kit that are inevitably in my purse. The floor of my dorm room has slowly become the "cuddle corner," covered with pillows, my comforter, and a box of tissues at the ready for any breakup or breakdown. Even my Myers Briggs type, INFP, predicts this pattern. And while I love my role as mom, I know in my heart that I will not be applying to be an RA. Sure, I am the girl who takes care of people and makes sure all of the proverbial ducks are in a row, but I am many other, very important things as well.
I am the girl who hugs too much, asks "what's wrong?" too often, and overthinks everything.
I am the girl who does those random acts of kindness, but worries each time she's clinging too hard.
I am the girl who is afraid of people walking out on her, and expresses this through overprotecting those around her.
I am the girl who puts everyone else first, no matter how much she's hurting.
I am the girl who takes people's emotional pain, and allows it to fester within her.
I am the girl who feels for people until she can't feel at all.
I am the girl who thinks that every time she complains or hurts or lets people in, she's driving people away.
I am the girl who is selfless to a fault.
I know I'm that girl. That girl cannot and should not be responsible for others as a job.
While I am confident that I would be a good RA, maybe even a great one, I understand myself well enough to know that I would put my residents first every single time they came calling. I would take care of them until I could not bear to take care of myself. It would take a toll on my physical and mental wellbeing, and I know that cannot happen. I won't let it happen.
I want to continue to take care of my friends, and to be there for them unconditionally. I will be a better support as a friend than I could ever be an RA. I know that surprises people, and maybe even lets some of them down, but, hey, that's me.
So if you ever need a bandaid, a designated driver, or a hug, you know where to find me. But please don't come calling if you've locked yourself out of your room or broke the dryer. I'm not qualified, and probably won't be any time soon.
