If you love something, set it free
Another school year has come and has practically gone, and with that another year of my life is coming to a close. With this change is coming a lot of acceptance, some grief, but above all, excitement for life ahead, although I am not sure what it holds yet.
I am a planner and a doer. I like to have things in order and I like to know what is coming. And there is something about change that really makes me uncomfortable, but that topic is one for another day. But like everything in life, the things we plan eventually must (or sometimes, must not) come to fruition, and eventually a close. One of the things in my life that is ending is my career as an editor at The Bottom Line, the newspaper that has become a sort of home to me since fall of my freshman year at UCSB. I have grown to create a career for myself at this newspaper. After a quarter of writing for it, I became hooked and I set goals and plans for myself and my life there. I went on to become a steady reporter after a year of staff writing, and eventually was hired to be the Executive Content Editor, overseeing the production and content of the newspaper each week–or really, each day.
After a quarter of writing for it, I became hooked and I set goals and plans for myself and my life there.
This was so exciting to me. I loved my job. I loved coming in to the newsroom every week to send the paper, and I got a thrill every time we completed an editorial cycle. It was exciting and new, and exactly what I wanted for myself. I set out to accomplish the goal of becoming an editor my junior year, and I did just that. I am proud to say that I can check that off my list.
But that’s just it. It became a job. As time went on and responsibilities became more and more daunting, working at the newspaper became less and less enjoyable. I got older, and life became more monotonous. The pressure built up and I got lost. I felt obligated and isolated at times, and I found myself often regressing into the same feelings I felt when I was in high school, the feelings of self-doubt and unworthiness.
The pressure built up and I got lost.
While I can say that I hired the new “me” with a sigh of relief, I can also say that these past two weeks have been more…well, surprising. I am so happy to be training the new person who will be taking over my job, but part of me feels anxious and weird about closing this door of my life. Giving the new ECE more responsibilities as I train her has definitely taken a load of my shoulders and given me more time to dedicate to school, but it has also given me more time to reflect and understand exactly how I am feeling. Within rant-y Tumblr posts, short journal scrawls, and finally this blog, I have reflected on how I feel and what I want. This is messy at times, and my brain can feel clouded with emotion and rules, and sometimes I don’t really even know how I feel or what I want.
But after a conversation with a coworker today, I think I have reached a sort of contentment. I love The Bottom Line, admittedly. Though it has caused me emotional strife and I drink a lot more coffee than water some days, I can confidently say that I love it. The newspaper has given me what I asked of it. Sure, a lot of the feelings were not expected, and there are some things I truly wish I could have changed but had no control over, but I can still say that, well…I feel content. And it is with this contentment that I feel comfortable closing the door.
I will still be here. I will still return to write articles, maybe even weekly. I don’t think my Tuesday evenings will ever feel the same after this year, and I don’t think I will ever feel fully comfortable in the newsroom, to tell you the truth. And that is okay with me. But all in all, this is a door that I feel I need to close. For myself, really. At least for now.
Though it has caused me emotional strife and I drink a lot more coffee than water some days, I can confidently say that I love it.
And so with a clearer, much less caffeinated mindset, I shall set it free, with more love than ever.
Thank you for reading.