Praggnya K.
Photography by Catherine White.
If you’re reading this, maybe you are standing at the edge of something uncertain, too, but you are ready to take that leap of faith.
I heard the phrase “leap of faith” for the first time in Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse. Miles Morales, someone bestowed with the powers of Spider-Man but seemingly unable to use them with grace, asks, “When will I know I’m ready?” To this, Peter Parker, Spider-Man from an alternate universe, replies, “You won’t. It’s a leap of faith. That’s all it is, Miles. A leap of faith.”
A leap of faith.
What an incredible idea that you can’t scientifically measure if you are truly ready to do something. Perhaps there’s no way to predict. Perhaps you were always ready. All that’s remaining is your ability to recognize that — your leap of faith.
Starting in 2025, it felt like every day came with something terrifying that made me feel more lost and alone. I lost a childhood friend who meant the world to me. Some people I had trusted hurt my feelings multiple times, almost like a cascading domino effect. Sometimes, I would get so close to actually achieving something I wanted, but the opportunity would be taken away at the last minute. Even with my loved ones, it became hard to connect, leaving me with an indescribable emptiness.
The longer this went on, the more I lost myself. The once incredibly bubbly, kind, hopeful girl everyone had known was nowhere to be seen. I was falling apart; I had never felt this weak and helpless before.
Although it was difficult to feel hopeful, my dream of becoming a professor remained strong and steadfast. That’s why, when I reached my final year at UVA, I was locked in to applying to graduate school—especially for my master's, as I plan to obtain a PhD later.
Yet whenever someone asked what my plans were after UVA, I told them I would take a gap year, with only a handful of people knowing I was working hard applying to schools. The reason? I was too scared. Going to graduate school was a huge milestone for my dream career, and all the things I was experiencing made me feel that perhaps, this too would end in failure.
But it didn’t. I heard back from all the schools, and almost all of them offered me acceptances. However, I had been in the trenches for so long that despite my months of hard work in the application season, my success didn’t feel substantial. It felt as if I didn’t deserve it, and it wasn’t that big of a deal.
Regardless, I chose the place I would spend the next two years of graduate school, and that place has been finalized: Atlanta.
As I write the word “Atlanta,” it still feels surreal. I thought that once I got what I’d been working for, when finally something good happened after the immense rollercoaster life had been for me, that I would find her again—the version of myself who always smiled, had faith, and cleared any hurdle in her path.
But that didn’t happen even after I finally knew where I would spend my next two years.
And that taught me something very important.
I wasn't happy, even with all those acceptance letters, because I thought I wasn’t worth it. I thought I would find myself again when I had finally achieved a huge milestone, but that didn’t magically happen…not because I had lost her forever, but because I didn’t quite yet believe I could be that way again. I didn't feel ready for the future.
But what is being ready anyway? This is where speaking to those who love and support me, reading a multitude of self-help books, and a sprinkle of the Spider-Verse came in handy.
Being ready for something—whether it is being ready to go to a new place like I will need to soon, or being ready to find yourself again like I wanted to, no matter what it is—is not quantifiable. It’s not a milestone that can be reached. Being ready is something you already are and always have been. Readiness is a mindset rather than a checklist of actions or achievements. It’s just a matter of believing that you are ready—it’s taking that leap of faith in yourself.
When I saw Miles Morales struggle with his abilities and confidence, it reminded me of myself and how I had felt over the past year. But Miles had what it took to be Spider-Man the whole time, didn’t he? Not just physically, through the power provided by the radioactive spider, but also mentally, which is why he was chosen to be Spider-Man in the first place. It’s only when he took the leap of faith that all of it came together, that all his power meant something. Just like that, I had it all in me this whole time, too.
All I needed to do was believe that I am ready, because I have been ready this whole time. My future is uncertain, and I can’t deny that I feel a lot of fear. I wonder if my next two years in Atlanta will be as testing as my past year. I wonder if I will be able to feel like my old self there. I am not sure, but I do know that I am ready to take on whatever Atlanta throws at me.
And you are ready too.
This academic year has essentially ended, and maybe you are at a place like me, where you see a future filled with uncertainty. You may not know what tomorrow may bring. You may feel scared. All of that is okay.
I want you to know, despite whatever you are going through, you are ready to take that leap of faith in yourself. Everything you want and need is all on the other side of truly believing in yourself.
Going into the unknown feels like standing on a skyscraper, wondering if you are ready to jump. In moments like this, think of Miles Morales.
It’s just a leap of faith, dear reader, that’s all it is.
Praggnya K., University of Virginia
Connect With Us
To follow IfYoureReadingThis at UVA on Instagram, get in touch with our chapter, and learn about more resources available to University of Virginia students, visit our chapter’s homepage.
AUTHOR CONTACT
This author has opted to allow readers who resonate with their story to contact them. If you would like to speak to the author of this letter about their experience, please use the form below.