The year was 1993…

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Buffalo Nickel.”

Dig through your couch cushions, your purse, or the floor of your car and look at the year printed on the first coin you find. What were you doing that year?

So, I dug through my bag and pulled out a quarter from 1993.  This was a year of endings and beginnings — highs and lows.  It was the year of my high school graduation.  So much excitement and anticipation of new things to come.  But I was so painfully shy at that age and didn’t have a lot of self-confidence.  My first semester at college was extremely challenging.  I had picked a very large state school, mostly for financial reasons.  I was just swallowed up in my 300+ person classes.  I had gone from having great relationships with my teachers, and dare I say a bit of a teachers pet, to being too nervous to even approach my professors or have more than just a quick conversation with my TAs.  I knew what I wanted to major in, but was convinced by my dad that another, albeit similar one, would be better for me.  For the first time in my life, I failed miserably.  Tough lessons and hard decisions came early.  A change of schools and majors, a graduate degree from an ivy league school and I am now doing what I love and exactly what I should be doing.  Thank goodness for personal growth and discovery in my 20s and early 30s.

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