Two roles, one person
2025 handed me more than I thought I could hold. I became Vice President and College Governor at the same time — nakakapagod, sobra. There were weeks where I was running on almost nothing, showing up to meetings, handling events, making decisions that affected others, while also trying to survive academically.
There were days I sat alone and genuinely wondered how I was still standing. And then I'd remind myself: you chose this. You chose to lead because you believed you could make a difference — and walking away would mean proving yourself wrong.
Burnout is real. I felt it. But I also learned that rest is not quitting — it's strategy. You can't pour from an empty cup, so I had to learn to refill mine without guilt.
My "nakshie"
In the middle of all the chaos, I met people — genuinely good, funny, real people — who became part of my story in ways I didn't expect. My "nakshie." They weren't just friends; they were anchors. The ones I could be completely unguarded around, laugh with after exhausting days, and lean on when the weight got too heavy.
I think about how different this year would've been without them, and honestly — I don't want to imagine it. They made the hard parts survivable. More than survivable. They made them memorable.
Genuinely happy, despite everything
The strange thing about 2025 is that even at its hardest, I was genuinely happy. Not the performative kind — the real, quiet kind. The kind you feel when you know what you're doing matters, when the people around you make the difficult days beautiful, when you end a brutal week and still feel proud of yourself.
I carried more than I thought I could. And I didn't break.