Whenever an event pops up on The Weekender, my mind immediately shifts to “who will I go with,” rather than “what will I do there.” In every footstep alone, I feel a tremble of vulnerability wash over me, as the quiet awkwardness creeps into all my senses. During class meetings or All School Meeting (ASM), I desperately look for familiar faces to sit next to, afraid of the sensation of being alone. When I can’t find friends sitting at Paresky Commons, my heartbeat rises, looking around for one person, one table, where I could be comfortable. Solitude became synonymous with terror, and friendships served as a road away from the emotion I so much feared. The feeling intruded every solitary moment of my days, even as I lay down in my room in the afternoons or went to bed early on weekends. Being around other people now was the only way for me to run away from the daunting void of being lonely.
I used to hyperanalyze, processing each response emotionally and carefully, questioning the nuance of a simple text or hypothesizing why my friend wouldn’t wave back when I said hi. Did he not see me, or was he ignoring me? My fear of loneliness turned into a longing for being “wanted,” which led to a sustained discomfort I couldn’t shake myself out of. I saw my friends as my family here at school, and depended on them emotionally for my problems, concerns, and all my thoughts. But I quickly grew exhausted, as I towed the line between friendship and attachment. So that’s how these rules were made: to overcome the only way I knew how to live here.
Be empathetic, but don’t be hypersensitive. One of the reasons I became so close to my friends now was because I found an empathetic side of them and I found a side of me that wanted to be empathetic for them. We called each other during late nights, questioning why we were overwhelmed with work already in the second week and talking about everything from Instagram brain rot to giving study tips and relationship advice. The ability to connect with someone emotionally proved valuable to maintaining myself again and again. But once those friends became a big part of life, and once it became a daily routine to yell their name across the Great Lawn, I fell into the trap of hypersensitivity. Friendships are not emotionally linear, but I treated them like they were, always getting better the more time I spent with my friends. Of course there were ups and downs, and of course emotions weren’t static and changed all the time, but my hypersensitivity prevented me from acknowledging the fact that there are variables to friendships that I don’t have control over.
Believe that you are valued, because you are. Andover is a place of independence and freedom, and it may often seem like you would easily detach from your community unless you make constant efforts to belong. But I hope this rule reminds you that this community needs you in a thousand different ways, whether it is explicitly expressed or not. You are needed as a companion in the lunch line, a study buddy during study hours, or just a friend there for another friend during crunch times. It may feel as if, at many times, I am not needed in this community to keep it running, but let’s remind ourselves of our impact. I’ve found it simple but greatly rewarding to believe, many times without evidence or proof, that people here respect and value me. Once you begin to think that way, it may be much easier to see the brighter side of each interaction, to find value in yourself in others at the start, and find value in yourself. My circle of influence turned out to be much larger than what I thought it would be, and this realization calmed my fear of being constantly with someone. Believing in your value will help you believe in yourself and stay confident, even when you can’t see it directly.
Lastly, quoting one of the most powerful lines in any movie I’ve watched, “it’s not your fault.” When Sean Maguire said this to Will Hunting in “Good Will Hunting,” it referred to Will’s childhood trauma and abuse that built him the defensive persona that he carried with him. In the context of Andover, this phrase resonates more. It’s not your fault that you may feel like you choose to isolate yourself because you feel burned out, and it’s not your fault you may think you can’t find time for your friends. It isn’t your fault when some days you just find yourself unable to smile and happen to give more irritated responses instead of warm ones. It’s not your fault that you might feel out of place. I want to tell my old self’s uncertain ear that it’s alright to feel anything and everything and that all feelings deserve at least a bit of my attention and care.
To feel at home at a place we call home away from our homes is always a challenge. In an independent and rigorous environment such as this, it can be easy to question yourself and feel scared to be alone. Me not being able to stand being alone wasn’t just a thirst for belonging but a symptom of self-doubt. We must tell ourselves, through all the busy work and meetings, that we hold undeniable and unignorable value in this community, and that our circle of influence is always bigger than what we recognize it to be. It’s not always your fault: many factors that make you dissatisfied with who you are are often out of your control. Let’s embrace being alone: sit alone at dinner, study alone, walk alone to class, and be proud of it. Whatever being alone may entail and be our own Sean Maguire, telling ourselves: “it’s not always your fault.”
