“When is the best time to plant a tree? Twenty years ago. The second-best time is today.” - Chinese proverb

When I first heard this proverb from one of my friends at Princeton, I understood the meaning, but I did not realize the meaning until much later. This summer, I interned for a venture capital firm in Tulsa, OK. I found Atento Capital through one of the Center for Career Development’s career fairs, and I decided to take a chance. My last blog talks about the value of taking a chance on a small city, so I won’t repeat myself here. What I will do, however, is talk about one of the biggest lessons I learned: the time to startup is now.

Being that Atento’s investment range is pre-seed and seed stage startup companies, I was exposed to the early life of many startups. From firsthand experience, I can say that it is a tough journey starting out. The venture capital world relies on a power rule in order to make money. For example, a firm may hear from thousands of companies, whittle it down to being interested in one hundred, and then investing in ten. Of those ten companies, half will fail, two or three will break even, one may slightly exceed the investment, and one may be a ‘home run’ which yields significant returns. It is a super volatile industry.

In the pivotal moments of a startup's early life, managing money is super important. Having time to deliver on a plan is the second battle, or in other words, managing what is called burn/runway. This is essentially how much time you have left before you run out of money in the bank. There are a variety of factors that influence this, which can become complicated to manage. Failure to do so oftentimes results in the end of the company or the need to raise more capital and lose ownership. This is why the time to make a startup is in college.

There are numerous benefits to starting a startup while in college. First off, The risk of failure is insignificant compared to the consequences if taken outside of college. While you are in school, the worst thing that can happen is your startup fails, you have more freetime on campus, and you learn a few lessons along the way. Perhaps an oversimplification, but while in college, you are in a protected bubble of opportunity. The present talent at school serves as a base to launch a project that can turn into something amazing. What other time will you be surrounded by hundreds of bright individuals within arms reach? On top of this, the entrepreneurial ecosystem at Princeton (and other schools) is very strong. The support is unmatched.

Additionally, pitch competitions often give non dilutive funding/grants to groups who perform the best - this is not something that happens outside of college; if someone gives you money, they expect returns. The worst part of raising funds for your startup is giving part of your business away, so why not take advantage of opportunities where that does not happen. In short, the best time to take a risk on a good idea and found a startup is in the nest of opportunity known as college! Facebook was founded twenty years ago at Harvard, the next ‘Facebook’ startup will be founded today, at Princeton. It's time to startup! 

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Mentorship and advising have been some of the most meaningful aspects of my time at Princeton. Being on the receiving end of this kind of guidance has allowed me to feel more connected to the campus community at large. This support has been a conglomeration of mentors and advisers from all over the University, ranging from my residential college staff over at Mathey College to professors willing to lend a listening ear, and even upperclassmen. These individuals have helped me grow not only as a student but as a young professional and young adult as well.

The Princeton University Mentoring Program (PUMP) is one of the many mentorship opportunities available to students. It is housed within the Carl A. Fields Center on campus, which is the focal point for many affinity spaces and cultural communities on campus. PUMP seeks to provide valuable support and resources to first-year students of color in order to help them navigate Princeton with confidence. Through PUMP, participating first-years are matched with one peer mentor (either a sophomore, a junior, or a senior) and one alumni mentor. Throughout the school year, mentees form close bonds with their peer mentors and periodically meet with their alumni mentors virtually.

The process for forming these matches is typically carried out by the PUMP coordinator within the Carl A. Fields Center staff. All PUMP participants submit a form early in the school year outlining their personal and career interests. They are then matched according to compatibility. My junior year, this meant being matched with a first-year who was interested in learning more about the Politics Department, and being matched with an alumna currently attending law school—something both my mentee and I were interested in pursuing.

PUMP members participate in a variety of activities. The core of the program is the time spent one-on-one between mentees and their mentors. Each pair receives a small stipend each month to encourage them to get a small meal together on Nassau Street, or to use as they see fit (some might even use it to go kayaking near campus). Pairs are encouraged to meet a few times each month and maintain consistent communication. One of the pillars of peer mentorship relies on approachability and dependability, and that is cultivated through these frequent interactions, where mentees can ask questions about their academics or campus life more generally. As a peer mentor, you are responsible for staying up to date on knowledge surrounding potential resources that may be helpful for your mentee. Additionally, the PUMP executive board hosts a variety of monthly workshops, meetings, and social events for both mentees and mentors. Some examples include an event discussing internship opportunities, a presentation on campus resources and offices, and painting nights. Often, delicious catering from nearby restaurants is provided.

Altogether, PUMP helps students acclimate to the academic and cultural dynamics of the University in a space meant to feel like home. Many students go on to maintain their friendships with past mentors over the years—a testament to the impact that the program has for those who participate. Although I have stepped down from my position as a peer mentor this year, I leave with fond memories of the program and hope that first-year students continue taking advantage of such an amazing resource and community on campus.

When I first came to Princeton, I was overwhelmed with the amount of opportunity presented to me in just a mere few weeks. Those weeks blended into months and eventually, 2 semesters worth of saying “yes” led to a feeling I couldn’t quite pinpoint: burnout.

Being in the orange bubble is an experience that amplifies your sense of gratitude, confidence, and belief that anything is possible — and it truly is. Possibility is multiplied twofold at a place like Princeton. This is because Princeton connects you with the resources, the education, and the community to pursue your dreams. However, in this pursuit, it can be easy to forget to take care of yourself, to build healthy habits, and to form sustainable relationships. 

Naturally then, when this Summer started, the weight of the semester crashed onto me and I felt myself exhausted on all fronts. Exhaustion seeped into bitterness, and soon I was in a battle where the only person I was fighting was myself and the goal was to accept that saying “no” was okay.

There is something scary about seeing passion and hope being overshadowed by discontentment. If passion and hope are the driving force behind joy, then discontentment is the thief of it. By some stroke of luck and a little bit of effort, I was able to overcome this feeling by not letting the orange bubble define me. 

What did this look like? Well this summer, I ventured beyond Princeton and pursued an internship that would place me as far away as possible from New Jersey. This internship was a moment for me to figure out what I wanted to do professionally and subsequently, what type of culture I wanted to surround myself with moving forward. Culture, to me, meant the people I interacted with, the values I adopted, and the feeling that this community gave me.

My main takeaway from this experience is that while Princeton is a part of me, I am also a part of Princeton. Princeton has undoubtedly opened many doors for me that would have stayed closed otherwise. However, I am more than the academic and professional experiences that I have acquired up to this point. I am a culmination of the communities I surround myself with — back home, at school, and the places I’ve intimately explored. 

This summer, I was fortunate enough to meet a remarkable group of individuals who have challenged my perspective and enriched my life in countless ways. Their enthusiasm and passion were infectious, and it was an honor to represent Princeton within this community. They taught me the invaluable lesson that our college experiences are not linear progressions but rather, dynamic journeys marked by growth and transformation.

Through their diverse backgrounds and experiences, I gained a deeper appreciation for the multifaceted nature of our time at Princeton. Our four years are a canvas upon which we paint our own unique stories, filled with both triumphs and setbacks. The orange bubble, while undoubtedly special, is just one chapter in a much larger narrative. By stepping outside of that environment, I realized the importance of cultivating a broader worldview and building connections that extend far beyond the campus.

Ultimately, it is through these experiences—both within and outside of Princeton—that we shape our identities and prepare ourselves for the complexities of the world beyond. The skills, knowledge, and relationships we forge will continue to evolve as we navigate the ever-changing landscape of our personal and professional lives.

If you’re like me, whenever you’re stressed, your go-to comfort drink is bubble tea. The sweet, chewy texture of boba and aromatic, milky tea always hits the spot for me. Incoming tigers, you might be wondering where at Princeton you can find boba – fear not, I’ve got you covered! Here’s a list of five places to get boba at Princeton:

1. Junbi

Junbi is a favorite amongst students. It’s located just a few minutes walking away from campus and it’s a great place to work or hang out with friends. Junbi primarily does matcha, with their Madagascar vanilla matcha latte being one of their most popular drinks. They also sell other drinks like lattes, dirty matchas, other milk tea flavors, soft serves, and rice balls. I typically go there to get a lychee oolong and to get a matcha soft serve as some of their matcha drinks are not as strong as I’d like. However, lots of my friends rave about their matcha drinks. Junbi is a must try at least once in your Princeton career!

2. Kung Fu Tea

Kung Fu Tea is a chain that you can find all over the East Coast, but the one at Princeton is a popular spot too. KFT is located on Nassau Street, the main street located right outside FitzRandolph Gates, Princeton’s main entrance. They sell a broader variety of milk teas compared to Junbi, such as yogurt teas, slushes, and punches. You can also choose to eat at KFT as they have a wide range of Asian-style dishes to choose from including ramen, pho, and other types of noodles. I don’t come to KFT too often, but do remember getting pho there during a cold winter day and loving the taste of the noodles. KFT is a good option if you are looking for a specific flavor of milk tea. 

3. FICUS

FICUS is located a bit further down Nassau Street, but is also a popular option for students. FICUS is primarily a restaurant with a “boba tea bar,” so the boba is a bit more elevated compared to Junbi and Kung Fu Tea. It’s still a popular spot to study and hang out, a bit more away from the hustle and bustle of main Nassau Street. I’ve tried their Thai Tea, and quite liked it, so I recommend visiting FICUS for its vibes and more upscale boba drinking experience. 

4. MTea

MTea is a recent addition to the bubble tea scene at Princeton, and is located only a few shops down from Kung Fu Tea. If you’ve tried boba in Asia, this is the store that’s going to be the most similar to that experience. Their teas range from fresh fruit teas, creme brulee teas and classics like brown sugar milk tea. Their teas are a bit more on the expensive side, but if you’re looking for high quality teas, this is the place for you. They also sell desserts like cakes and mochis, and dishes like sushi and poke bowls. The inside is a bit small, but very comfortable for a one-on-one catch up conversation. I’ve really enjoyed their grape tea in the past. 

5. Fruity Yogurt 

A more unconventional entry into this list, Fruity Yogurt primarily sells frozen yogurt, or froyo. They do sell bubble tea, along with juices, smoothies and milkshakes. While I’ve never been to fruity yogurt for their bubble tea, (I quite like their froyo!) some flavors that my friends have gotten include taro, thai milk tea, and coconut milk tea. If you’re ever tired of the other boba shops around campus, this could be a great place to switch it up. 

If you’re scared of burning too much cash, also fear not! Clubs at Princeton often hold events where they give out free boba. There’s been a week where I’ve been able to get three free drinks from three different events. Also, all freshmen get $150 of credit to spend at certain shops off-campus. As of now, you can use these credits at Junbi to buy however many drinks you want. I hope that you get to try some of the places that I’ve listed in the article – don’t be chai, I promise you they’re all tea-licious!

I’ve lived in the same house all my life and have always had the same bedroom. Over the years, my room became somewhat of a sacred space to me — the place where I was the most comfortable. Moving into college, living — for the first time — in a space away from my childhood home, I was terrified that I’d be unable to replicate the comfort of my childhood bedroom.

However, upon arriving at Little Hall — the home of my first-year dorm within Mathey Residential College — my fears were quickly whisked away. As my mother and I unpacked half of my life into the room that would be my new home for the next nine months, a kind-eyed woman and her curly-haired daughter poked their heads into my spanking new dorm. “Hi!” the woman said. “This is my daughter, Marlie.” And with a grin from Marlie and a handshake, this new and strange building began to feel more like home. As the first few weeks of the fall semester passed, I got to know my other neighbors, and we became friends. We often exchanged complaints about the heat or our new workload as we passed each other in the hall. We’d discuss our courses as we brushed our teeth in the mornings. We’d knock on each other’s doors when we discovered a bug that was too scary to kill ourselves. Although the beginning of college was scary, living near friends put my mind at ease. 

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Simultaneously, I was beginning to create the creature comforts of home within my dorm room. I filled my wall with photos of friends, family, and hometown memories. I organized a bookshelf of all my favorite books. I set up a speaker where I could listen to music as I prepared for the day. I stocked the room up with all my favorite snacks. Slowly but surely, my dorm room became my favorite place to be. After a long day of classes or socializing, I was always most excited to return to my cozy dorm. I had made it feel like home.

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I had also learned how to manage my own space. Cleaning my room and refrigerator weekly became a fun and cathartic ritual. When I found that the lights weren’t working correctly or the door was squeaking unnecessarily, I became accustomed to seeking out the facilities resources that could remedy these problems. I learned to kill bugs by myself (a huge accomplishment for a girl with a massive fear of insects) and would host friends from out of town in my new space. I began to feel very independent.

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However, after the fall semester concluded, as I returned to my childhood home for a month for winter break, I worried that all of the comfort and ease I fostered would disappear by the time I returned to Princeton in January. But this was not the case. Coming back to my dorm after a month felt like coming home in a different way. All the independence, memories, and comfort I had created over the fall semester washed over me as I stepped through the door. Undeniably, my dorm room was my favorite space on campus. I looked forward to hallway and bathroom chats with my neighbors, hosting friends in my dorm, decompressing from a long day with a good movie and the comfort of my bed, releasing the week’s stress as I cleaned, and more. Saying goodbye to friends and professors at the end of the spring semester was difficult, but saying goodbye to my first-year dorm felt impossible. It had become the space where I was the most comfortable.

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Looking back, I know now that although my first-year dorm room was indeed a magical space, what made it most memorable to me were the things I learned about myself living there. The comfort, independence, and memories I had gained residing in this space would not disappear as I moved into a new dorm the following year. They will always be a part of me. What I’ve learned now is that living in a new space allows you to become a new version of yourself, meet new people, and have new experiences. Thus, I’m genuinely ecstatic for the new magic my sophomore-year dorm will bring.

When winter break rolls around at Princeton, you have several options for how to spend it. You could stay at home with your family, and come back to campus at the end of January (when the Spring semester starts). Or you could be like me, and return to campus two weeks early for Wintersession. 

Wintersession, organized by the Office of Campus Engagement, is a free opportunity for students and faculty members to take classes on anything they want. Past offerings include playing Dungeons and Dragons, decorating cakes, and going on day trips to Broadway. The best part about Wintersession is that there are no grades. What matters is that everyone has fun.

Anybody can teach a Wintersession class. You simply visit the online application, and provide the name/description of your Wintersession offering and your bio written in the third person. You also need to provide details such as your technology needs, your ideal number of participants, and your budget for purchasing materials. If this sounds overwhelming, don't worry, the small but mighty Office of Campus Engagement team will always be there to answer your questions!

I taught my first Wintersession class entitled "The Feeling Power of Mental Health Journaling" my sophomore year. I got the idea from working as a Community Action Fellow with the Pace Center for Civic Engagement.

As part of my CA groups learning about creativity and mental health, I asked poet Topaz Winters '23 to teach virtual journaling workshops. My first year students felt lighter dumping their anticipatory anxiety onto paper, rather than tucking away their heavy baggage. I wanted to recreate this same safe space. Hence, I capped my workshop at twenty people to keep it intimate. I also wanted to get back into journaling. And what better way to hold myself accountable than by journaling in community?

Fast forward to January 16, 2024: the scheduled day of my workshop. Thick snow piles covered our campus, making me wonder if my participants would show up. But despite the snowstorm, ten students and faculty members joined me inside Frist Campus Center. 

I walked my participants through examples of different types of journaling — gratitude journaling, reflective journaling, and manifestation journaling — through ten minute guided prompts. My favorite part was hearing what everyone wrote. Some participants were using Winter Break to get back into old hobbies, like writing a novel. Others, instead of using words, used pictures to express their emotions. There were even participants who disliked writing, but who opened their minds up to my workshop and ultimately fell in love with journaling. 

All in all, “The Feeling Power of Mental Health Journaling” was a powerful way for students and staff members to validate each other's experiences. It's why I’m thrilled to announce that for its second year, "The Feeling Power of Mental Health Journaling" will be offered during Wintersession 2025. I look forward to once again spreading my passions for writing and mental health to the rest of the Princeton community!

Last summer, following my first year at Princeton, I had the opportunity to take part in an International Internship Program (IIP) for a Medellín-based renewable energy startup called Solenium. As an ardent traveler and renewable energy enthusiast, I had very high expectations. Even so, I could not have imagined the vibrant, transformative, and gratifying experience I was about to have. 

As a fresh-out-of-high-school first-year student, I was amazed by the international opportunities supported by Princeton. Learning I could have an international career opportunity fully funded by Princeton was staggering: I had to take advantage. What stood out to me most about the IIP program was that it didn’t ask students to sacrifice life experience for career or vice-versa. As someone who is curious and passionate about not only academics but also the greater world, IIP offered me an avenue to explore all passions. In life, and particularly in the U.S., I believe students often become weighed down by career expectations too early. At Princeton, programs like IIP offer us the ability to maintain an edge in career pursuits while still exposing us to cultures and experiences that define the way we operate in and view the world. 

What did my experience actually look like? My IIP – through the thoughtful and organized help of advisers and an internship organization – funded a two-month internship as a software engineer at Solenium, a renewables startup in Medellín. As a student who literally came to Princeton for opportunities in renewable energy, this was a chance to work in my dream field while also exploring Colombia and work on my Spanish. Suffice to say, words cannot express how much I loved my time there. My supervisors and coworkers at Solenium were equally passionate about solving the problem of climate change and helped me grow as a software developer, problem-solver, and worldly person. The environment of the company was that of a family: multiple times a week the office would go play soccer against teenagers at the park, get dinner at delicious street vendors, or hold late night brainstorming. Outside of work, I explored the “city of eternal spring” (the weather in Medellín is undoubtedly the greatest I have ever experienced). I went on IIP organized tours, met local friends at the park, tried hundreds of different food stands and restaurants, watched soccer matches, and immersed myself in the culture. On weekends, I traveled Colombia: I saw jungle and ocean, got my hair cut – and had an incredible conversation – with a Venezuelan immigrant on his way to the Darién Gap. I stayed on a floating hostel, laughed with locals while trying fruits I couldn’t pronounce, and tried – miserably – to salsa dance. 

I worked hard every day to take the opportunity awarded to me and make the most of it. By the end I had – in the most cliche way possible – been transformed. I worked conversationally in Spanish, learned Django and Flutter to build a functioning prototype of a smart EV charger, and had made dozens of close friends – fellow interns and Colombians alike. I was able to see the passion and innovation with which people all over the world tackle the same climate problems I hope to fight. I experienced a completely new culture and grew as an academic, traveler, and person. It is for these reasons and so many more that I can’t even think of my time in Colombia without cracking a smile; my experience in Medellín was, and will remain, one of the best experiences of my life. 

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It’s always been you. But why?

Throughout my years at Princeton and even before then, people have asked me why I chose psychology as my major. I wish I had a perfect response that would provide some clarity, but the only thing I can say is: it just felt right.

I’d like to preface my journey to choosing a major by saying it was in no way conventional. When I was in high school, I racked my brain trying to figure out what I should major in. My dad wanted me to major in architecture, which I wasn’t totally opposed to. I was really leaning towards a major in English or Creative Writing. I always loved reading and writing but didn’t see myself making a career out of it because I wrote for fun and wanted it to stay that way. One day in biology class, someone mentioned they were going to major in psychology and I don’t know how, but it felt right for me too.

One thing to know about me is that once I decide on something, I stick to it. So I took a deep dive into the field of psychology, not really knowing what I was looking for, but I loved how I could do anything with it. Psychology is one of those majors that can be applied to most fields. I could go to medical school, work in advertising, or even continue with a life filled with research. I loved what seemed like endless possibilities, and while I was deciding on one thing now, I knew I would have multiple options to choose from later on.

Coming to Princeton, I wouldn’t say I was close-minded to other majors, but the more I learned about psychology, the more I fell in love. My first psychology course was Cognitive Psychology with Professor Tania Lombrozo. This course remains one of the best lecture courses I have taken at Princeton; it was so engaging and sparked my curiosity. I was one of two freshmen in this course, and while it was challenging, it solidified that I had made the right choice.

I can’t say I didn’t explore my options. I thought I might be interested in philosophy, so I took an Ancient Philosophy course. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a meeting of the minds when I read the ideas of Aristotle and Socrates. Then, I thought anthropology could be something interesting, so I took “Empire of Debts,” an amazing course taught by Prof. Julia Elyachar. While I loved the course, I had a strong preference for the discussions over the dense readings. Even though some psychology courses can have dense readings, I find myself enjoying them. A few honorable mentions are “Zen Buddhism” (a religion course), “African American Studies and the Philosophy of Race” (an African American Studies course), and “American Television” (an English course). Most people find general education requirement courses annoying but I loved all of the ones I took, even if they weren’t going to be what I chose to study.

So, when sophomore spring came and I had to choose my major, it was an easy choice. Every step was both exciting and nerve-wracking. Finding my junior paper advisor, joining a lab, submitting my junior paper abroad – all of these things weren’t easy, but I was happy doing them. Even now, my last summer at Princeton, it was an easy choice to work on my thesis research. I had the support of my advisor, the support from the Office of Undergraduate Research (OUR), and my own volition to create something special. Now, I’m working on a longitudinal project that I created with my lab titled “First Year Narratives,” where we recruit First-Generation Low-Income (FGLI) students across different institutions in NJ. In the midst of creating flyers, sending emails and preparing survey items, I find myself so happy with the choice I made.

This blog honestly could’ve been pages long with all the reasons I chose psychology, from fMRI studies to the amazing courses I have taken. When choosing your major, there are so many ways you can come to a decision. But I hope at the end of the day, you love it.

I hate to break this news to any incoming first-years, but Princeton is littered with construction. Our campus is quite beautiful, and most of the quintessential corners have been left untouched. However, it seems that Princeton is in a never-ending era of construction.

Even as I write this blog, my desk overlooks what should be a beautiful view to Poe Field—a grassy, well-kept lawn which welcomes the New Colleges. While Poe Field is commonly occupied by our frisbee team or by students taking in the sun, all of the grass has been uprooted due to recent construction. From my 7th floor view to the field, cranes and bulldozers look like small yellow play toys. Orange construction cones look like specs of candy corn amidst a bowl of worms and dirt.

Construction is not confined to Poe Field. Princeton is in the works of constructing a new art museum, residential college, Equad extension, and expanded gym all amidst implementation of more sustainable technologies. While this change promises an exciting future for Princeton, it unfortunately promises me noisy bike rides up Elm Drive. I distinctly remember one morning, the haze was so strong that I was coughing amidst the dust and abrasive sounds of progress.

While construction has its downsides, it’s important to see the bigger picture amongst it all.  Many students complain about our current surroundings, but forget that construction surrounds us because Princeton is trying to improve itself. We go to a school that strives for excellence - and so it’s interesting that we are often so uncomfortable with the sounds and looks of progress. Princeton has reminded me that progress is not always a pretty picture. 

As Princeton is in a seemingly endless era of construction, I have found some interesting parallels within myself. I, like many other students here, strive for excellence. We like to push ourselves in every dimention. And while this is often seen as a strength, I don’t think we view ourselves enough as we view campus—as a construction sight. Just as Princeton is always under construction, let this be a gentle reminder that we too, are always under construction. 

Amidst all of our goals and accomplishments, our internships and LinkedIn posts, we are all constantly trying to improve ourselves. From time to time, it’s okay if you find yourself coughing amidst the dust, if the haze makes it hard to see, if progress doesn’t always sound pretty. It’s normal for this to happen. While at times you may feel lost within your own construction site, never doubt your own foundations. Be your biggest supporter. Be conscious enough to put down the orange cones. Know when you might need some reconstructing. But also know that while you place the orange cones, you also wear the orange hat. You are the builder. You are the architect of your own life. 

If Princeton’s construction sites have taught me one last thing, it’s that sometimes, a bit of perspective is needed. Like my rooftop view of Poe Field, sometimes the bulldozers should be viewed as toys and the orange cones as candy. I believe that as people, we are all in an era of never ending construction. While this can sound intimidating, no one said construction has to be scary—it can be a positive process. You wear the hat after all. We all see what Princeton is constructing, now the question is, what are you? 

Returning to Princeton after a semester abroad, I was looking forward to conducting my senior thesis research over the summer. Princeton, where everything feels familiar. But I quickly realized that, like people, places frequently change over time. In honor of one of my favorite romantic comedies of all time, I decided to write my own version of 10 Things I Hate About You: Princeton Edition. 

I hate the hill. (There is steady incline from Yeh College to Nassau Hall) It's simple: going up this hill every time I want a cup of coffee or have a work shift on campus is an absolute pain.

I hate the weather. As a New Jersey native, you'd think I'd be used to it by now but I live farther north where we don't have this kind of humidity. The heat wave hitting Princeton this summer, with temperatures in the high 90s, is something I'm not particularly happy about.

I hate leaving Rocky, my residential college. For my summer research, I'm staying in the newer residential colleges, NCW and Yeh. I miss the charm of Rocky, the greenery and the peacefulness. Seeing people walk around or taking photoshoots, it's a distinct environment I've grown accustomed to. NCW and Yeh feel like I'm in a small isolated world.

I hate that my friends aren't here. Most of them are off in different parts of the world or the country working on amazing projects. I miss having people I'm close to nearby, especially after being apart for so long.

I hate all the new construction sites; every day, there's literally a new roadblock. But with each detour, I'm led to a new path I've never taken. I see a new side of Princeton that I wouldn't have seen before because I stick to the same routine. So, while it can be frustrating each day, I'm learning to be grateful for each new place I discover. 

I hate how much I love my lab. We have so many new people over the summer but that comes with the quick reminder that their presence is only temporary. So with each moment I grow closer to them, I know how much harder it's going to be to say goodbye.

I hate how much I love crocheting. I've picked up a hobby I've wanted to pursue for years but never had the time for. Crocheting is such a great, mindless activity and I know that soon I won't have countless hours to spend on my different projects.

I hate how much I love working on my thesis. These two months simultaneously feel like I've gotten so much and nothing done. Running a longitudinal study across different institutions takes a lot of preparation and organization. While I'm close to being where I want to be, I know I still have a lot to do. But I enjoy it because it's work I'm passionate about—work I feel is important.

I hate how time flies so fast here. I only have a few weeks left before the summer session ends and I'll be going home. I'm trying to soak in every moment, every time my lab comes up with a new topic to debate, like grapes vs. cherries or what constitutes a cake. These are the moments I won't forget.

So, in the wise words of Kat Stratford, “But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you. Not even close. Not even a little bit. Not even at all.” Just like with growing pains, I come to see everything from a new perspective. I see how change can be good and bad, but most of all, how I'm changing with it.