Leona G.
Photography by Jessica Pentel
When I opened my email in the Barracks Panera Bread during the second semester of second year, my breath caught in my throat. After roughly seven months of forming strong bonds as a Resident Advisor with the incredible residents of Tuttle 5L, affectionately called the Penthouse, my hard work had been recognized – I had been promoted to Senior Resident for the 2020-2021 school year.
At the time of my application submission, it felt like the natural next step of my UVA experience. My identity as a student during second year crystallized around being an RA through a wholehearted love for my girls and the love that they channeled back to me, and my time living with them is still to this day what I consider my most valuable UVA experience. In accordance with what seemed to be the unspoken UVA policy, it felt decided that HRL would be my “thing,” or the organization that I poured my heart and soul into during my time here.
The next few months were a whirlwind of responsibility and change. Amid packing up the Penthouse months earlier than expected and moving home as a result of COVID-19, I was undergoing staff selection and finding out that I would be the Senior Resident of the very dorm I had lived in as a first-year. I struggled to maintain my excitement as everyone I knew held their breath waiting for the university’s decision about whether or not to allow in-person instruction, and held off on processing my own emotions as I did my best to answer the questions and concerns of my worried staffers.
Move-in felt different that year. Gone was the excitement of fresh starts and new faces, budding friendships and exciting events. Instead, doubt crept into my mind, and I began to feel consumed by an overwhelming sense of guilt. My mind latched on to the idea that I was personally responsible for the health, safety, and happiness of each of my 200+ residents and staffers. Whenever someone went into quarantine or experienced loneliness and isolation as a result of the circumstances we all faced, it was because I hadn’t tried hard enough to create the right environment for everyone around me. It felt like I couldn’t do anything right, even though I wasn’t doing anything wrong.
When I consider these thoughts now, I know that it was my anxiety speaking. When I talk to my friends and past staffers about that time of my life, I know that none of them blamed me for the conditions that we all faced as the result of a global pandemic. In the heart of experiencing that anxiety, however, every irrational thought I had felt tangible and all-consuming. My mental state continued to deteriorate to a point where I was not eating, my heart was constantly palpitating, and I couldn’t focus on anything other than my role as an SR. I became so afraid that I cried to my supervisor, and in early October she suggested traveling home for a weekend to clear my head.
There is so much nobility in persevering through difficult circumstances, and I have so much admiration for the people who have served as leaders and mentors throughout the past two years. However, we’re often taught that perseverance is the only route to success; we believe that some damage is natural and normal when working hard. I don’t think any decision has ever been harder for me than the one that I made to go against this principle and step down from my role as Senior Resident. In the moment, I felt like an absolute failure who had let down my staffers, residents, and supervisors. I felt like I had completely ruined the pathway to “success” that I had built for myself at UVA, and that I would now graduate from this school without having made a significant positive impact on the community at this school that had provided so much to me.
The reality of the situation is that I was unwell, and that I needed and deserved time to rest and heal. I spent the next few months living at home, going to therapy, and genuinely feeling the worst that I have ever felt in my life. I was depressed and anxious to the point of being unable to focus or eat. Yet, after months of taking care of myself, relying on an incredible support system of family and friends, and seeking professional help, I little by little began to feel like the version of myself that could crack jokes, care deeply for others, and balance my own needs with the ones of those around me.
In retrospect, I’m confident that my decision to leave was absolutely vital to my overall health. Lots of factors contributed to the way my anxiety impacted me, but I firmly believe that among them was the way that I allowed my position to define me. I had lost sight of the fact that success and impact do not stem from a singular title or position, but from a sense of personal fulfillment and joy. My “success” at UVA stems from the fact that I am happy and healthy, that I feel like a good version of myself, and that I have wonderful friendships and communities that I will cherish for the rest of my life. My positive impact is felt in the way I still have close relationships with my second year hall, or the example that I set for others that it’s important to prioritize your mental health.
At a school that attracts high-achieving, talented students, it sometimes feels that if you’re not doing everything, you’re doing nothing. If you’re reading this, it’s okay to take a step back.
Leona G., University of Virginia ‘22
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