a dash of ash

august 5 2019

As you read this, wondering: ‘Why on earth did Ashley decide to make a blog at this particular point in her life?’ Just know that I too, am pondering upon that very subject as I write this on the border of four o’clock in the morning, far past my bedtime, knowing well that I begin classes in two weeks. 

A week from now, I will be sleeping at my aunt’s house in Fort Lauderdale, anxiously waiting to move into my dorm, which occurs at 9am a week from today. Even as I think about it and type it out, I haven’t managed to wrap my head around it entirely: A week from now I will be approximately 1400 miles away from everything I’ve known. And unlike my family, I will not be returning. (not until December, at least). Eventually, we will embark on a seemingly endless twenty hour drive, from which I will not return. As I pack away what I deem “important” I realize that it’s not really my things I’m scared of leaving, I’m even okay with leaving the bedroom that I’ve stayed in for as long as I can remember-it’s leaving everything else that absolutely terrifies me. 

As someone who defines herself with familiarity and continuity, I’m not sure why a school across the country stuck with me so much. However, I guess stepping out of my comfort zone is a newly-developed pattern of mine. Had I not taken the leap from my small-town school that I’d attended ever since I could remember and gone to what USNews has determined the “#1 High School in Michigan,” I’m not quite sure where I’d be. Although difficult at first, going to the International Academy of Macomb was probably the best thing I could’ve done for myself. The amount of opportunities and relationships I was able to find there were never lacking. I guess that’s what beckoned me to NSU, and what drove me to choose a school so far away, I become restless when left without a challenge. Although I do fear the unknown, when faced with that particular decision, I refuse to let my life become boring. 

There’s one instance in particular that comes to mind every time I think of what could have happened, had I decided to return to my small-town high school. Had I gone to my home school, I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to travel to Peru my freshman year of high school. I can say confidently and honestly that that trip made me who I am today. When I first heard about the trip, I didn’t even want to go. Eventually, my mom convinced me, and it just so happened my best friend was going as well! Despite the fact that we were the only two freshmen on the trip (and the fact that the two teachers that were going absolutely TERRIFIED me), I had the time of my life on that trip and did so many things out of my comfort zone that I’d need a whole additional post to talk about it (which might happen-stay tuned). However, there is one particular moment on that trip that has stuck with me throughout the last four years. Ziplining was one of the items on the itinerary towards the end of the trip, and just thinking about it made me want to cry. There was absolutely NO WAY that I was going to launch myself off the side of a mountain, dangling by a STRING. But, my parents made me promise that I would do it if they let me go. So, after hiking an entire mountain in the Sacred Valley of Peru, I stood there, on a ledge, waiting my turn to literally push myself off a cliff. It was at that moment that I could not believe myself. I ran through the actions that had got me there, and did not regret a single one of them, despite being terrified. And eventually, I jumped, and had the time of my life. (Only no one told me there were seven separate ziplines we had to take to get down the mountain, so this process repeated itself SEVEN TIMES) I guess, the importance of that story to me is that every time I’m about to try something new or do something out of my comfort zone, I imagine that I’m back on that mountain and I look back and I think about the actions that brought me there, but ultimately, there’s only one way down the mountain, and that’s to just take the jump and get down the line. 

I feel like for me, this moment of serenity, one of the last nights I’ll spend at home in my own bed, that I’ve known for seemingly forever, is like that moment on the edge of the mountain. I know what’s coming. I know that there’s no looking back, there’s only one way off the mountain: jump, knowing I have cables attached to me no matter how far down the line I go. However, the time to jump isn’t just yet, it’s coming, but I still have time. And in this time I will be sure to look back and think of all that has gotten me to where I am at the edge of this mountain…

I will look back and think of all of the friends that I’ve grown apart from and grown to love. 

I will  look back at the friendships that fell apart, whether it be that I felt wronged or I was in the wrong, and LEARN from them.

I will look back at all of the people who were there for me, facetiming and pulling all-nighters with me the nights before my IOC, my IOP, my TOK presentation and all of the other daunting tasks that are long in our past. 

I will look back on the immense amount of change that our class endured over the course of four years and take pride in that, knowing that others’ judgments and opinions do NOT define you. 

I will look back on all of those sleepless nights during senior year in which I thought it would NEVER end, only for it to end too quickly. 

I will look back on the unexpected friends I made, and the group of friends that I became a part of and learned to love.

I will look back on all of the outstanding teachers I’ve had throughout my life and continue to be inspired by them and hope to one day make them proud. 

I will look back on the many breakdowns I had over the years, and know that I am stronger because of them.

I will look back on all of the memories I’ve made throughout the last four years and cherish them for years to come.

But,

I will also look forward to the many experiences to come within the next chapter of my life at university. Because eventually, in order to take the leap, you need to look down the line and see that it’s clear. And as much as it terrifies me to leave everything that is familiar to me, I know I will always be able to look back at the memories. But keeping that in mind, let’s stop looking back for a moment. Let’s start looking forward. Let’s begin. 

xoxo, Ash