For the first time since elementary school, the expectation of icebreakers at the beginning of this semester excited me. Getting to chat with friends on move-in day — and make some new ones — was less daunting. Walking to the dining hall and skipping a night out caused fewer voices whispering what-ifs inside my head.
“What did you do over the summer?” played on repeat throughout my classes, and the same thought answered back in my head every time.
“I started therapy this summer,” I thought with a smile.
While I don’t quite have the guts to share this milestone out loud during class, I still feel relieved to be back on campus and feeling better than ever. Returning to Oxford College this fall has been akin both to coming home and reentering the depths of hell, to put it bluntly. I struggle with my mental well-being, as many do, but the time I dedicated to myself over the summer was rejuvenating. I am finding myself while asking a pressing question: What does it mean for an overachieving, busy and generally-stressed college student to take care of themself?
Self-care has always taunted me. I feel silly writing in a journal, frivolous while doing a face mask and guiltily useless while taking breaks. Yes, I’d love to take a walk or do some art, but I fear losing time wandering or making bad art — the latter of which is not too difficult for me. Instead, my procrastination gets the best of me, and the vicious cycle repeats.
This begs the question of how to break yourself from the magnetic pull of workaholism that fuels our ever-present egos, and frankly, conversation topics. You can’t get too far into a chat with friends or acquaintances without moaning and groaning about assignments, commitments or other stressors.
Last semester, I had a professor who helped me better grasp the idea of self-care. Previously, and perhaps foolishly, I have always equated self-care with slowing down. It sounded like stepping away from my momentum and losing time. However, my professor got through to me in three words: “Have some fun.”
It wasn’t “slow down,” “take some time to yourself” or even “take care of yourself.” He simply encouraged me to do something that I enjoy. For extra credit, my professor pushed his students to get outside of their comfort zones, spend time doing a hobby or discover something new.
It was the best advice I had gotten all year — apologies to my therapist, you’re lovely too. Now, I have unlocked a whole other side of taking care of myself. If I find writing for The Emory Wheel to be fun, then who is to say that I’m not taking care of myself?
I recently had a conversation with a friend who, like myself and many others, is doing a lot of things. The advice she was getting from certain people around her was that she needed to slow down and take some time for herself. Instead, I proposed that we could study together; make self-care something you are positively engaged with and excited to do.
I am by no means an expert in this subject. However, with the beginning of the first few real weeks of classes ahead of us, I want to encourage all of you to define self-care for yourselves. For me, it means going at a different speed — but not necessarily slower.
Whether you need to speed up, stay steady or make a U-turn, keep in mind that your mental health is not another box on your to-do list. While self-care can be a time or an activity, it’s also a mindset. You can take care of yourself and be productive at the same time if you need to — it’s allowed. Don’t avoid your mental health like the plague because you don’t want another item on your plate. I’ve been there, and I can assure you that I will be there again. My definition of self-care is ever-evolving and can take the form of work, play or relaxation.
And to all of the professors out there: take a page out of my professor’s book and encourage your students to have some fun in whatever manner suits them; sometimes, all it takes is rewording an ever-suffocating message of “take care of yourself” to get an important point across.
Ellie Fivas (24Ox) is from Cleveland, TN.
