Please hear what I'm not saying.

I have recently been acutely aware of the fact that I am a woman (and all the assumptions, consequences, implications, and side effects that come with it in a working environment); it has been making me quite uncomfortable and insecure. 

...this is the shit you read about in articles/books and argue about on feminist forums. But now that I am truthfully experiencing it IRL is quite surreal (and not in a good way).

I don't really have much else to say about this, and I haven't really discussed it with anyone because I'm a little concerned I'm being overly sensitive. But isn't that concern exactly what I'm talking about?!

200 people nominated and only 8 receive awards. I have sat on the selection committee for these awards for the past two years and it always has been difficult. People have always been disappointed. But I always felt like we made the right choices, even if they were hard ones.

This year was our year. We arrived excited to be recognized for our nominations (...and for the open bar and free dinner). I looked around anxiously. Those who are awarded an SLA are surprised by their parent's presence the night of. One two three four five six. Six peoples families were there, which left two unknown recipients. "Maybe my parents couldn't make it" I thought.

I know this must sound snobbish, but I was supposed to get one. I held the highest profile leadership position on campus this year. They always get one. People have been telling me for weeks I would get one. "Can't wait to see your parents tonight!" my friends joked. But within the first few moments of stepping into that room it became clear that I was not a recipient. 

I had been bracing myself since day one with the possibility of not receiving one. But I could not prepare myself for what I experienced last night. Our Dean of Students joked about me in his opening remarks...a joke he intentionally said to make me feel special before reality set in. My roommates held my hand and sent me texts reminding me how much I mattered. My advisor texted me at the end of the ceremony "I am very proud of you. I know this was not easy tonight."

I lost it.

I fled the ceremony as soon as it was over, tears streaming down my face, crying uncontrollably. I cried by myself, I cried in public, I cried with friends. I could not stop. I cried for hours. I would finally be given a moment of peace only to start crying again. I do not remember the last time I cried like that. 

I'm still crying today. I feel horrible, useless, failure, unwanted, unloved. And I feel pathetic, because this is all over a stupid award I have said for years only did more harm than good. 

People have reassured me that I am worthy. Multiple people have said they are shocked how the awards played out. And I really, really appreciate all the love I am receiving. But I cannot help but be upset.

I am not an A+ student. I do not have post-grad opportunities. I do not spend all my free time volunteering. No, I have dedicated my past four years to this community and to leadership. This is my thing. And the one and only thing that could validate my efforts--I did not receive. I cannot help but ask myself "what did I do wrong?"

About halfway through our stay, at dinner, one friend began a series of circle games. Somehow, this transitioned from silly questions into full-fledged affirmations.

We all went around the table and spoke about each other individually. And not just shallow, one-sentence comments, but long, thoughtout, and meaningful compliments. Buzzed from bottomless wine glasses, tears met with cloth napkins, we put our hearts on the table to let each other how much we cared. 

No one was expecting such a meaningful dinner, but we left that restaurant appreciating each other and ourselves more than ever. 

I have traveled on a rollercoaster of emotions regarding love my entire life.

From 5th grade crushes to 7th grade nerves, from 9th grade curiosity to 12th grade heartbreak, from underclassmen frustration to upperclassmen "over it" I have searched for love.

And although on my worst days I am motion sick, on my best days I realize how much love I have found.

Love for the family I couldn't choose, love for the childhood friends who have stayed for so long, and love for the new friends who have helped me grow.

I don't think I've ever addressed or talked about it out loud so honestly, emotionally, or  directly.