When I first arrived at UC Berkeley, I had one major goal: to make the most of my undergraduate experience. I wanted to succeed academically, meet new people, join organizations, have fun, and create memories I could look back on for years. I knew my undergraduate years would be only one chapter of my life, and I did not want to graduate feeling like I had let them pass me by. I wanted to appreciate the beauty of being young, independent (small and petite), and surrounded by opportunities. Part of that motivation definitely came from FOMO. I have always hated the idea of missing out on something exciting; however, another part of it stemmed from wanting to live intentionally. I did not want my undergraduate years to be defined only by lectures, assignments, exams, and stress. I wanted it to include laughter, friendships, mistakes, adventures, growth, and movements that reminded me life is more than preparing for the next achievement!
This desire came largely from my experience in high school. Back then, I struggled to balance academics with having fun because I thought I had to choose between the two. When I focused heavily on school, I put a lot of pressure on myself and felt like I was missing out socially. When I tried to relax, I felt guilty because I thought I should be studying. I did not understand that balance means making room for different parts of life without letting one take over everything else. Berkeley felt like a chance to change that mindset! I wanted to prove that I could work hard while still making time for friendships and new experiences. I could care about my grades without letting them become my entire identity, and I could enjoy my life without feeling like I was failing to take my future seriously.
Although I arrived with these goals, my first year did not look anything like I imagined. Believe it or not, I was nervous, reserved, and hesitant to step outside my comfort zone. Berkeley was exciting, but it was also overwhelming. I was surrounded by students who seemed intelligent, confident, social, and certain about what they wanted. There were so many opportunities — but instead of feeling energized, I often felt intimidated. I wanted to introduce myself to people, but I was worried I would say something awkward. I wanted to attend events, but I was afraid I would feel out of place. Even though I had arrived determined to experience everything, fear quietly began influencing my decisions. As a result, I became dependent on my friends I had come to Berkeley with from high school. I was grateful for them; however, relying on them kept me from stepping outside what was familiar.
If my friends could not attend an event, I often decided not to go either. Their presence became something I felt I needed in order to be comfortable, resulting in missed chances to form new friendships, explore different interests, and discover who I was outside of my high school self. I joined only one club during my first year — even that required a lot of courage. Once I joined, I convinced myself one club was enough. In reality, I was scared of walking into another unfamiliar room and starting over. A lot of people who know me are now surprised when I describe this version of myself because today I am overwhelmingly outgoing and extroverted (bruh I’m a tour guide lol). I enjoy meeting people, joining organizations, and taking on leadership roles, and beginning conversations with strangers. My confidence, however, did not appear overnight — and I’d like to note that it developed each time I acted even though I was uncomfortable.
I began to realize that feeling shy, nervous, or afraid was another way of demonstrating that I needed practice, not that I was incapable of becoming confident. Each time I introduced myself, attended an event alone, applied for a position, or spoke up in a group, I proved that I could survive the discomfort. When my second year began, I decided to approach life differently. I made it a priority to go all out and stop holding myself back. I was tired of wondering what might happen if I attended an event, applied for a leadership role, joined another organization, or spoke to someone new. I did not want to keep watching other people live “the college experience” I wanted while I remained on the sidelines. I reminded myself we are only young once. That is when “YOLO” became more meaningful to me.
People often use “you only live once” to justify reckless decisions, but that is not what it means in my life. To me, YOLO means understanding that fear should not direct my choices. Time will keep moving whether I take an opportunity or not. I may fail, feel embarrassed, get rejected, or make a mistake; however, those possibilities are not good enough reasons to avoid living. During my second year, I became more willing to enter situations my first-year self would have avoided. I applied for positions even when I questioned whether I was qualified. I joined more organizations, attended more events, spoke to more people, and became comfortable entering spaces without needing a friend beside me. I learned that confidence usually comes after taking action. Waiting until I felt completely prepared would have meant waiting forever.
Sometimes I had to act while doubting myself or enter a room while nervous. Each experience taught me something. Rejection showed me disappointment is temporary. Awkward conversations taught me embarrassment is usually smaller than it feels. Success showed me I was capable of more than I believed. At the same time, going all out has not meant saying yes to everything. There have been moments when I took on too much while balancing academics, work, leadership, friendships, and personal time. Those moments taught me that making the most of my undergraduate years is not about filling every hour. Sometimes it means going on a spontaneous adventure, but other times it means resting. The goal is not to be able to do everything, which is what I interpreted at first, but it is to make choices based on what matters to me rather than letting fear decide.
I have also realized that the most meaningful memories are not always created through major events. As a matter of fact, some of my favorite memories at Berkeley have been surprisingly ordinary: laughing with friends, walking across campus, getting food after a meeting, or having an unexpected conversation. These experiences may not seem important while they are happening, but they become the memories that define a period of life. I want to appreciate the beauty of my undergraduate years while I am still living them instead of waiting until graduation to realize how special they were. It is easy at Berkeley to become obsessed with the next exam, internship, application, or career goal. Of course, ambition matters, but I do not want to spend my entire experience preparing for the future and forget to appreciate the life happening directly in front of me.
I know I will not always have the same freedom and flexibility I have as an undergraduate student. In the future, my decisions may involve career, finances, family responsibilities, and long-term commitments. That does not mean life becomes boring after Berkeley, but I must realize that this particular chapter is temporary. Berkeley offers a unique chance to explore, change direction, make mistakes, and discover new versions of yourself. That is why I remind myself that if I am going to make a mistake, this is one of the best times to make it. I would rather apply for something and be rejected than spend years wondering what could have happened. I would rather attend an event and feel awkward for a few minutes than stay home imagining the friendships I could have made. I would rather try something new and discover it is not for me than allow fear to make that decision before I begin.
This is not a message encouraging people to be careless, just to be clear. It is a reminder to us all that discomfort is not the same thing as danger. Embarrassment fades, rejection teaches, mistakes redirect, and courage grows through practice. Most importantly, it is a reminder that life is already happening. My first year at Berkeley showed me what fear could cause me to miss, while my second year showed me how much could change when I stopped allowing fear to lead. Now, I want to keep choosing experiences, growth, friendships, joy, and memories. I want to work hard, but I also want to laugh. I want to prepare for my future, but I also want to appreciate the present. When I eventually graduate, I want to know that I did not simply attend the university, but I want to know that I truly lived while I was here in a classic livelaughloveleandro style!