By Samantha Lam
On a sunny morning in August 2016, I walked onto the campus of Westmont High School for freshman orientation. I was 14 years old, a little nervous, but doing okay. Luckily for me, most of my friends from middle school were also attending Westmont, and I drew confidence knowing that I still had them by my side. I was excited for high school; as the former principal had said during Future Warrior Night, these were the last four years until the rest of my life. I took it to heart, and as a result I had a lot of questions for myself back then: “What will I do here?” “What direction do I want to go in?” “What kind of person am I going to become?”
The next two years were a whirlwind of emotions and events. I attended my first homecoming dance with my friends, my first football game on a chilly Friday night, and played my first games as a member of the Westmont soccer and badminton teams. But through all of the clamor of new and exciting high school activities, I felt lost. Sophomore me was, frankly, an angsty, emotional wreck: I had just started thinking seriously about college, and I hadn’t a sliver of an idea where I wanted to go or what I wanted to be. I didn’t feel at home playing school sports, and my self-confidence was at an all-time low.
It wasn’t until the end of my sophomore year that something in me clicked. I learned to take a step back and breathe, and to stop worrying so much about things I couldn’t control. I began to trust the process and let myself go with the flow instead of forcing myself into the mold I had created out of expectation. From then on, things took a turn for the better. I decided that sports weren’t for me, and instead found my home in Journalism creating pages for The Shield. I gained more confidence as a LIFE Crew leader, and I even started working part-time. I discovered that my interest lied in the sciences, and decided that I wanted to pursue neuroscience in college and possibly pursue a medical degree. I have my friends, old and new, by my side, and I’ve learned the importance of cultivating new relationships while preserving existing ones, whether it be with peers or teachers.
As a freshman, I never thought too much about how much I would change during the course of my highschool career, but boy have I changed, both physically and mentally. I’ve learned to be flexible, yet grounded in my values, and learned to face every challenge and unexpected turn head on. I finally overcame my immense shyness (kind of) and discovered the importance of embracing opportunities instead of running from them. I learned how to dress, though it’s still a work in progress. I discovered my passion for making Spotify playlists for every mood. I realized that I needed to enjoy the little things in life instead of worrying all the time: boba runs, dinner with the family, car karaoke in senior Annie Vertin’s car Travis, cuddling with my dogs, walking through the hallways and waving to a friend.
I turned 18 this year, and though I still have a lot of questions about my life, I think I’ve emerged from the past four years a little wiser, a little bolder, and with a little more clarity. The highschool-glow-up, I would say. Without me knowing it, senior year came to an end on a sunny March afternoon, as did my time at Westmont. I spent my last hour at school laughing hysterically in John Shieh’s sixth period AP Statistics class alongside fellow seniors Stephanie Lau, Hayley Cheng, Adrian Billawala, and Mason Cazalet, with a sense of happiness, confidence, contentment, and belonging. I think it was a fitting way to finish off senior year. So, to my 14-year-old self: it’ll be alright. Just trust the process.