To become the woman I am today, I went through about a million phases. The little girl I was in third grade was so drastically different than the girl I was in my senior year of high school.

I was once a little girl trying to comprehend divorce, make sense of where I stood in life, and at the same time, try to find interest in school, whether it was social studies or science. It flip-flopped daily; whatever we were learning about, if it caught my attention, I loved it. 

I always loved traveling, and I remember in fourth grade, we got to choose a topic to write about and research, and I chose Christmas around the world. Not knowing then that not everyone celebrated Christmas. To me and my fourth grade self, Santa delivered presents to everyone, even the Jewish! My favorite times in elementary school were when we had culture days, where everyone did a presentation on a different country and got to bring in a snack from there as well. I wouldn't even be able to sleep; I was so excited. 

I remember a girl in my class who was adopted from China, and her presentations were always so good. She brought in these little moon cookies for the culture days and for Chinese New Year, and I would just adore every part of her presentations and everything she brought.

I was once a girl in middle school trying to make sense of the world around me. I vividly remember memories such as the iPhone 3gs, Instagram, decorating lockers, and not being allowed to chew gum in school. I remember being shy yet problematic at times; not sure how I accomplished that, but I did. I remember not really believing in myself at all, struggling in school because I didn't think I was smart enough, and if I wasn't interested, I gave no effort. 

My 7th-grade language arts teacher pulled me aside one day and ripped me a new one nicely. She told me I was very smart but never doing any work, my grades would never get better and asked if I had anything else going on she needed to know about. I gave her a startled look, said no, and went to go back to my seat. She then hugged me and said reading and writing are life's best forms of escape. You can travel anywhere, and you can be anyone. She had me sold. Since my parents were still going through a divorce, I had so much on my mind that school was a simple piece in the background that I didn't bother with. I started reading and writing to no end; I was finishing books so fast that she had to tell me not to say the endings and that the class was only up to chapter four. I loved this version of myself because when I didn't seek help, I welcomed it when it found me, even if I didn't want to. I love this version of myself because she was strong and pursued in the right direction even with outside turmoil.

To the girl I was in high school, you were far more than a handful. I hadn’t even begun to understand the strength of my fiery personality or how to tame it. In fact, instead of taming it at all, I think I let it loose on everyone around me fearlessly, with no regrets. With no filter and no holding back, the fire was always there in its most fiery form. I remember distinctly my orchestra teacher telling me it took her years to be able to say no to people and to not care what others thought, and yet there I was at fifteen with the skills mastered. If my creativity wasn’t struck in class, yet again, there was an issue. Time and time again, I was finding new ways to do things, causing a commotion or simply not listening to anyone around me. To this version, I love how bold you were, and despite any hurdles, you remained so strong even when you were weak.

To the girl I was in undergrad, you were soft. You let your guard down and moved somewhere you had never even been. You healed over the course of four years. You changed majors many times, but you put your heart and soul into every new interest you found. You tried to fit into spaces you didn’t belong, but it only taught you to thrive in the places you very much did belong. You found happiness in philanthropic work and found peace of mind when studying. You made best friends and little by little learned how to make a home in a place you had never been. You were walked on a bit, you tried to be like everyone else, and you tried to hide the fire, but it only ended up hurting you. I love this version of myself because she let her walls down despite everything she had gone through and, time and time again, put herself out there. You began writing for the world to see, something no other version had accomplished before.

To the girl I was in graduate school, you had no fear. The fire came back full force, but this time slow and controlled, used only when needed. You were confident in your abilities, and you didn’t let anything get in your way. Every no you were ever told, you turned into “let’s find another way to do it.” You wrote your first book and lived in two different countries. You juggled work, graduate school, and language school all at once from a different country. You weren’t as trusting, a bit more closed off, and just wanted to focus on yourself and your success. You made friends for life and went through a hard period of change. You learned how to truly be on your own and love your own company. I love this version of myself because her fire was back, and she let nothing stand in her way, and she waited for no one. She wasn’t scared to fail; She wasn’t scared to break; She was ready for whatever life threw at her.

To the girl I am now, I am so proud of how far you’ve come. You are fiery, brilliant, and a force of nature. You’ve learned how to open up, control your fire, and help those near you along the way. You are a master at making a home in new places. You have a plethora of versions ahead of you, but I think this one is my favorite version so far.