Giving More of Myself - by 410 alum Laura Pinzon

As I am writing this, I am struggling for air. I cannot get enough oxygen into my lungs, and my chest is tight and heavy. My ears are blocked, my throat feels like sandpaper, and my head is pounding with a quiet roar. This, my dear friends, is what happens when you bottle everything up for 4 months and finally let go: you get sick. I am sure you don’t need me to remind you that transitioning into college is difficult and some people handle it better than others. Let’s just say that I did struggle quite a bit.

Throughout all of high school, and especially senior year, we would talk about college as if it is way ahead of us into the future, within reach but far away enough to not worry about. I understood that every moment I would spend with my friends here should be savored, since they would be all going their separate ways. I understood that I would have to find new friends who would never replace the old, but would bring something new. I understood that I wouldn’t get to see my family everyday, and at the time, I was so scared of that thought that I shoved it to the back of brain and avoided touching that topic. I understood that I would have to find something to connect me with my new home. But, you see, I thought I understood all of these things. Step One, go to elementary school; Step Two, move on to junior high; Step Three, here comes high school so get good grades and build your resume; Step Four, move out and go to college. Step Five, I guess, would be to build a career or family. I understood quite well that I was following all of the steps obediently. But what I did not prepare for was how I would actually feel during Step Four.

Two weeks into my first semester of college, I already had a breakdown. I finally came to the emotional realization that my life had completely changed, and I did not feel ready to take on that change. I was on my own. My family, and therefore my heart, lived in Katy but my body was in College Station. It’s only a 75-minute drive, so I guess you’d think it’s pretty pathetic to have separation issues as a 19 year old. I even think so. But my family and I have a bond that is so beautiful and has only gotten stronger every day. They were there for me during all of my sicknesses, all of my triumphs, and they were my friends when the ones at school were not. I really thought I was pretty independent, doing all of my own chores, setting up schedules, going to work and school and dance, and managing my money. I guess I mean to say that on paper I seem like an independent person, but I later realized that I so very much depend on being around my family. I envied my parents; they went to college in their hometowns in Colombia and stayed with their families until they got professional jobs, which is not uncommon in our culture. I am more scared of having to leave them and face the future than I am of struggling in my classes.

So these thoughts and feelings started circling around in my head, getting more and more intense as time went on. I deeply feared not being good enough to succeed, make it on my own. It gets to be dangerous when you sit into those pockets of fear, those holes of uncertainty where you find yourself falling deeper and forget how you fell in. You get so lost in the rumination that when you finally look up and you realize just how far down you got. Whenever I would wake up every morning, I would feel this crippling wave of nausea and had to lay down for a little bit, waiting for it to pass. I knew I needed help, so of course the first person I went to was my mom. She would check in on me throughout the day to make sure that I wasn’t studying for too long of a period of time, that I was eating, or that I had done some type of physical exercise. But no matter how hard we both tried to find a solution to pull me out of this hole, I kept having these thoughts.

The first piece of advice my mom gave me was to turn to God. I remember thinking that I was already turned to Him, in my prayers. But I decided to go deeper and I focused all of my energy on His love. When the nausea would hit me, I would still lay in bed but then I would thank the Lord for all of the blessings he has bestowed on me and on my family. I would thank him for my health, my chance at an amazing education, and for my family. Every single day. During mass, I would find myself going to a place deeper than I had ever gone before; my head bowed lower and my heart felt warmer, preparing the way for the Holy Spirit to light my soul on fire. It’s not that I discovered God for the first time; I just simply gave more of myself to Him.

​All of these expectations I had for myself were beating me down day after day. Once I let myself listen to what He wanted from me, I let my worries go and placed my trust in Him. “Many are the plans in a person's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails."  Proverbs 19:21

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