Dear College Students in the Bookstore,
It’s likely you didn’t realize how your hushed comments reached my ears. I understand the atmosphere of college life all too well—your attempts to impress your peers were palpable. However, you may not have grasped the pain your words could inflict on a complete stranger. When I overheard your remarks, it was clear you were talking about me.
“Look at her browsing workout apparel. She probably doesn’t even know what a gym is!”
That moment was over three years and a 50-pound weight loss ago, yet it still ignites a wave of embarrassment. I turned to face you, and I could tell you were surprised to see I was significantly older than you had assumed from behind. You might have thought I was merely a mother shopping for her daughter.
What you didn’t know was that I was there for myself. I had taken a brave step back into academia in my late 30s to complete my bachelor’s degree. Each day, I sat in my car for 20 minutes, mustering the courage to enter the classroom where you and your classmates gathered. You had no idea that I was grappling with a failing marriage, struggling to find a solution. My 3-year-old son was refusing to potty train, which meant I often rushed to school to change him since his Catholic preschool couldn’t assist. I was feeling lost, overwhelmed, and stress-eating frequently. The sweatpants I was eyeing were simply a remedy for the discomfort caused by the jeans that had grown painfully tight around my waist. I spent my last $20 until payday on those sweatpants.
You chose to judge me, further damaging my already fragile self-esteem. Your careless remarks pushed me deeper into my shell. It was heart-wrenching, especially as I was attempting to reclaim my strength during one of the most challenging periods of my life.
Despite the hurtful words you tossed around, I persevered through four semesters and proudly graduated. I weathered the storm of my marriage ending and finally got my son potty trained before the winter break. At 37, I made the Dean’s List and graduated at 38. I even shed those 50 pounds and no longer need the sweatpants I bought that day.
I still wear them at home while cleaning or during chilly nights. They have become a symbol of resilience. Although I now have to tie the waistband to keep them on, I cherish them for their comfort and practicality. They bear our school name in pink letters. Although you didn’t think I could hear you whisper, every time I wear them, I remember that moment. Yet instead of shame, I now reflect on how far I’ve come and ponder how different my journey might have been if you had simply purchased your books and moved along.
Before you share thoughts that you assume no one will hear, consider how you would feel if the same words were directed at you. When you overhear comments intended to be private, remember that the person they target has a life full of complexities beyond your view. Have we grown so accustomed to our screens that we’ve forgotten the humanity of those we encounter?
To those college students in the bookstore: I sincerely hope your lives are less tumultuous than mine has been. But should you face hardships, may you meet individuals who uplift you and remind you that you are more than your current situation. We owe each other that basic kindness.
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In summary, remember that kindness is vital in our interactions. Every individual carries their own battles, and a little compassion can go a long way.
Keyphrase: College Life and Kindness
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