Throughout my four years at Quinnipiac, I’ve often stopped to wonder how I fit in here. How does a girl who wore the same Rolling Stones tee shirt for two years straight in high school fit into such a picturesque community? I thought, many times, that I would never fit the mold that was expected of me as I studied here. The truth is, I sometimes didn’t. But the other truth is, it didn’t matter. I never sold myself short.

I entreat you all to do the same. The only wisdom I have to impart to you as I graduate is to not sell others short, either. I was able to see that despite how different I often felt from my peers, I was more than capable of being loved and finding love because I never allowed myself to be categorized or defined by any one. I did the same for others, and learned from them. People are your greatest muses, even the ones you never dreamed you might have something in common with. Get to know them, smile at them, dance with them, eat lunch with them. People are the best surprises.

That’s how I’ve felt, and will always feel, about the Chronicle community. Thank you for showing me that I could be a writer, a student, a fun-lover, a procrastinator, and a friend to many all at once. Thank you for sustaining the creativity in me, and for never letting it get lost in a bar or over a boy. Thank you for letting me know that I can fit in anywhere, because I have a lot more to offer than just the clothes I wear and a head of hair that even scares me sometimes.

Once again, I’m in transit, shifting from my cubby in the library to a cubicle in New York City. Change isn’t always comfortable, but I won’t be confined by the graduate stereotypes and the monotonous routine of a working twenty-something-year-old. I promise to keep writing and to keep breaking molds, if you all do the same. Quinnipiac is only a small part of who you’ll be for the rest of your life, but it’s an important one. Just make sure you share it with others, no matter who they are or who you think you may or may not be.