Dear Reader,
This is one of the last firsts I’ll have as a senior. So please don’t judge me if I get tangled up in my own thoughts.
When I first thought about myself getting older, I cried. I bawled my eyes out, and, funnily enough, I wasn’t even in middle school. I remember the feeling distinctly—being in fifth grade, sitting in my room after promotion. I don’t quite remember what was going on in my head, but I remember thinking that life was moving too quickly. The fear genuinely consumed every part of me, and it still does. But I continue to wake up every morning, just being one day older.
Okay, so what was the point of this? What was the point of this whole stupid intro? To be honest, I don’t know. I am still sorting through the tangles.
In middle school, I was exposed to many things, from multiple new teachers to being yelled at in the halls for being too loud. Most of these things haven’t stuck with me. Instead, they are summed up by the small memories that come and go—full of past laughter, embarrassing interactions, and, of course, the photos and texts backing them up. Despite this, one thing that has remained an integral part of my life is crochet. Like a ball of yarn that can never quite be finished, it has followed me in every project of my life.
My first finished piece ever was a jellyfish, and since then, they have become my favorite animal. If ever asked, I have come up with the bogus answer that they are just beautiful (not that they aren’t). The idea that my favorite animal is just based on its looks is too simplistic for an overthinker like me.
Depending on the species, they can live from anywhere from a couple of months to theoretically forever. I know it sounds strange, but Turritopsis dohrnii—look it up. This being said, they struggle to fight the current; instead, they opt to glide with the water.
I often wonder what life would be like if I were a jellyfish. Allowing the current to take over me, to “go with the flow,” instead of being consumed in fear, left with the constant thoughts of the undeniable what-ifs.
When I first got into crochet, the snags and the missed stitches frustrated me beyond belief. But before even getting there, I was truly confused on how to even hold the yarn, ultimately resorting to hours of YouTube shorts to lead the way. To be frank, giving up wasn’t an option; having a friend group who were all invested in the craft forced me to open up. My middle school friend group opened the doors, and in that way, I am forever thankful.
I have an issue with thinking too much about the future and living too much in the past. My siblings often question me when they hear me practicing exactly what I am going to say to someone. These conversations I’ve had by myself are frequently accompanied by the feeling of a string gliding through my fingers.
Crochet has been an outlet for me, with memories attached to each project. Stories of family, friends and people I no longer talk to can all be tied to something I’ve made, but that’s a conversation for another day.
Still unraveling things,
Sura Lin
