Alisa W.
Photography by Luther Bells
If you’re reading this, it’s okay to love yourself.
If I am honest, I did not think I would get to the point of writing this letter. I have spent a large portion of my life playing roles I thought would make other people’s lives easier. I let myself get comfortable with dysfunction and assumptions, causing me to put my needs and wants on the back burner so someone else could have the front seat.
I thought the best version of myself was one who could serve others, because I knew what it felt like to think I didn’t have someone—even when I was sitting in a crowd of people who knew me.
I have felt so alone in life that last year, on October 23rd, I considered taking my own life. Not because I wanted to die or because I didn’t see a future for myself. I was a couple of weeks shy of turning 22 and had two entire events planned to celebrate. I was the active president of this chapter. I was a semester away from graduating. I was applying to graduate schools to further my education in my dream career field. I had a support system of family, friends, and mentors who loved me and would have been devastated if I went through with my plans.
I was aware of all of that.
I was aware that help was a text or call away, but I felt so empty that it did not matter to me. It did not matter. I was angry, irritable, drained, not eating well, and still trying to be there for others when I could not bring myself to be there for me. In so many words and actions, I was telling myself I wasn’t worth love.
However, as you may be able to tell from the fact that you are reading this letter, I chose to stay.
After an insane amount of crying, calls to my mom, and the realization that I wanted more for myself, I stayed. I went to my family doctor to discuss my mental health and was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. I was prescribed a medication that did not work for me, went back to the doctor, and was given a different medication that has helped me tremendously.
I decided that it was time to love myself again.
That meant it was okay to go back outside with friends. I needed to remember to be consistent with taking my medication. Eating does, in fact, matter. Moving does wonders. I set new boundaries. I removed relationships that no longer served me. I accepted that I am not everyone’s cup of sweet tea (some people don’t even like sweet tea—biggest shocker to my Southern heart).
Still, there will always be someone who loves my cup and my tea.
Before anyone else can truly love me, I have to love me. After all, who else will say hello to my favorite tree or bother my sisters?
Every new day I get is a chance to write myself a love letter about how I decided that I was always worth it. I crossed that stage. I walked these hills—cried on them, fell on them. Honestly, Clemson has no choice but to know I was here because, regardless of my ups and downs, I did it all.
I made it.
So, to my fellow Tigers—past, present, and future—I want you to know that you’ve got this journey. Take it one step at a time. Remember to cherish the good, the bad, and the ugly. And most importantly, know that it is okay to love yourself.
Alisa W., Class of 2026
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