Kat’s Musings

Tag: family

  • Debunking College Myths: What Really Happened

    Debunking College Myths: What Really Happened

    I remember the first day of college. I thought I would rebel. I imagined I would transform and emerge into a much stronger, skinnier, and beautiful person. This was post high school downfall.

    I moved into a dorm. It smelled like old pizza and someone else’s regret. My roommate was an atheist/ anarchist.

    People talk about college like it is this crucible—late-night debates, soul-searching walks across campus, professors who become mentors. These people did not know how emotional I was/ how much I would overreact. 


    Thus, it was mostly lukewarm coffee, group projects where one guy did everything, and a syllabus I skimmed once. I did not even get the degree. I got the debt though. But formative? Nah.

    The big moments—the ones you are supposed to remember—felt scripted. The boys?  The parties?  If I wanted to drown my sorrows, they were easy enough to find. Dumb drunk boys are always willing to canoodle with a sad fatty. And it was college… Cheap beer is always available. Whether you are lonely or a in a group of friends, Natty Light is there.

    Philosophy 101? I nodded along while thinking about lunch— I was always thinking about lunch. There even was a bit of heartbreak as I briefly got involved with a guy who had a girlfriend. I did learn how to fake confidence. I also learned how to survive. Another skill I picked up was how to dodge eye contact in the dining hall. As I basically lived there… Useful? Sure. Life-altering? Not really. I was just a broken person—slightly more caffeinated, slightly more cynical, but still emotional and down-bad me. College was not a plot twist. It was background noise. The real stuff happened after. Outside the quad. No cap and gown required. 

    The myth says it has to be epic. Reality says: it is just school.

  • Discovering Strength Through Pain: A Journey

    Discovering Strength Through Pain: A Journey

    I used to think that my father was the strongest man. I never see him cry and I never see him ask for approval. But when I was at Syracuse University, my mother dismantled us.  I have always been a “daddy’s girl—“ you hurt him, you hurt me. Instead we were made to feel like something was wrong with us. Like we were just broken. 

    I hated to see him waive the white flag. I thought love was to be safe but instead I went into a tailspin. You hurt my father, you hurt me. So I went even deeper into my downward spiral. I kept eating my feelings. One year later I would end up in a coma and I would be disabled. 

    The worst part is that my mother had rewritten the whole story to make her the hero. She made excuses so she could be seen as the victim. I remember calling a good friend of mine (she has too much Ukrainian pride now though) sitting on the ground outside of the county jail in tears. There is no hero in this story. This was the moment when I broke down even more 

    So I turned to the manosphere accounts on Twitter (RIP). The manosphere gave me solace. It taught me about the manipulation that caused my father to fold. It also evidently taught me to hate on women. I know this is not exactly the right way to live. However, you will never catch me screaming about girl power and glass ceilings. I love men. I think that they are the greatest people on the planet. I also felt like I was being broken and betrayed by a woman. And I took it out on her. I took it too far. 

    I was already spiraling (because), but now I went down even further. 

    I learned how strength and weakness are not just physical— but instead strength is spine. Being able to say “no” instead of the quiet surrender I witnessed. I know that I should forgive. Holding onto pain only hurts you. But you cannot forgive when they keep taking. It is not pain and it is not hate— I do not have the energy for that. 

    We were dismantled. I was dismantled. It lead me towards rock bottom— but now I only have energy for progress and achieving my goals and desires.