Library

I stare into my bathroom mirror as I remove the mask. For the first time, I will attend high school showing my full face. I need to be beautiful, just like the girls on my TikTok feed. I examine each video, searching for the common thread. A hot pink blush gleams on each girl's cheek. Despite the stark contrast between my pale Irish skin spattered with freckles and that of the sun-kissed influencers, I race to Target to search for the infamous Revlon Insta-Blush which comes in stick form, making it foolproof. Or, so I thought.

I remember being surprised at how weak my arm felt, as if I was holding a dumbbell instead of a microphone. Standing in front of all of my high school classmates at our weekly Monday Meeting, I could feel my heartbeat in my ears as I studied the small silver holes in the head of the microphone and momentarily wished I was small enough to fit into one of them and disappear.

The concept of balance guides me through life. At heart I am a figure skater. Since early childhood I've learned how to balance on and off the ice rink; to glide though skating routines and busy schedules.

Just outlining the coastlines took a month. On the solid, 22-inch by 30-inch sheet of white paper I was working on, I couldn't just press the "undo" button if my highlighter happened to slip.

Contrary to popular belief, mini-golf is very challenging. The unforgiving, neon green turf and the jagged rock formations send my ball spiraling in the wrong direction and careen straight into the roaring waterfall every time. The irony of my inadequate skills, however, is not lost on my younger sister, who routinely avoids obstacles and sinks her ball straight into the hole. Her embarrassing victory dance follows soon after, much to my own dismay. Notwithstanding my mini-golf shortcomings, I am known as 'golf girl' by my peers and have learned much about myself and the game as the sole girl on my high school's golf team.

75,000 flipped pages. 11,520 packed boxes. 6 school maps. I began measuring my life in flipped pages, packed boxes, and school maps when I was 6. As my family and I flitted between states and coasts for my father's job over the last decade, I shielded myself with fantasy novels. With my head propped on the baseboard near my nightlight and a book held up in front of me by aching arms, I would dance in whimsical forests, fight daring battles, and rule dangerous courts long after dark.