People are books, individual tales; each, a vessel for one great epic.
In the beginning, when we haven’t reached full autonomy quite yet, we pretty much get the same prologue. Our parents teach us how to walk and learn the ABCs. We go to school, and through the same motions too. We eventually realize that no one will write our stories for us, so we pick up our pens.
Each chapter, while it may feel like a trip around the sun, it’s really because every slice echoes a different character. I know that I am not the same person I was when chapter three ended, as I will be by the time the action falls and I am ready to wrap it all up.
When a new chapter arrives, we will feel lost, without a sense of direction; everything has changed, including ourselves. Turning the page is not easy, until we come to the realization that we have the power to re-write our narrative if we desire to.
Because in the end, it doesn’t matter that Isabella failed calculus, or didn’t get out of bed for a week. In the end, Sarah is happily married to an NHL player, Emily becomes a NY Times Best-selling Author, and Isabella goes to Harvard for her PhD. That’s the beauty of stories, life. It is everything we wish to create.
Let there be mistakes, let there be contradictions, and let there be plot twists.
In the end, the final pages will show you why the new beginnings were necessary.
Olyvia Guo 