Practically everyone I’ve ever met since graduating from Harvard has asked me what Harvard was like. I feel I should have a better response than great or awesome by now. I think people want me to say something revealing or interesting but I guard my Harvard experience.
Awesome and great are true descriptions of my dream realized but grueling and confidence shattering are also apt qualifiers. Bipolar Disorder ripped from me the one thing I was known for – my intelligence – and with it left my belief in myself and my abilities.
So what was Harvard really like? A town with a big inviting welcome sign covering a place with deep valleys, narrow jagged paths, human players testing every fiber of my being with a dirt path at the end through the woods to a place where it has just stopped raining and the sun is rising at the dawn of a new day.
But the next time someone asks me I’ll probably just say “Awesome” again.