It was Tuesday. The best day of the week, at least according to Elle. On Tuesdays, Elle woke up refreshed and with a skip in her step knowing that in a few short hours she would be back at barre with her fellow dancers and newfound friends. It had been only a couple weeks since she returned to her childhood passion, and if in this stage of life, ballet taught her anything, it was that it is incredibly unforgiving of long breaks. This Tuesday, however, was different. Elle was finally confident enough to dance in her old pointe shoes, which she often called, the "pretty-in-pink wooden box that rips up her feet". She arrived early to warm up; stretching long and working through her toes to beat the inevitably unbearable cramps. As she slid on her pointe shoes, she reminisced on the good old days of young joints and unrestricted flexibility. Bending to secure her ribbons, she suddenly halted, fixated on the familiar tedious task that she realized had completely escaped her memory. She held one in each hand. Is it inside over outside? No, it’s outside over inside. It had been a long three years since Elle had danced, let alone try on her professional torture devices. She sat in a state of pensiveness, reflecting on her time at her studio back home, how much she had changed since her days as a hopeful, bright teenager on stage, and how serious life had become all too quickly. It couldn’t have been that long ago, right? Jayme, the only other girl en pointe in the class, peeked over to find her staring, seemingly thoughtless. “Would you like some help?” Elle giggled nervously. “I fear I’ve forgotten how to tie them.” “Here, I’ll show you.” Jayme tied her own pointe shoes and Elle mirrored, wondering how something she had practiced for almost a decade could be lost to the mental congestion of adulthood. Throughout ballet class, Elle spiraled, and not in the way a ballerina should. “I can’t believe I forgot how to tie them.” Jayme glanced over. “It happens to everyone, Elle. I promise it’s not that big of a deal.” “It is though. Ballet was my entire life. How could I have strayed so far from myself that I can’t remember how to tie my shoes? What else have I forgotten?” Elle sighed. “I understand they’re just shoes, but it’s more than the shoes. These past few weeks I’ve been finding my way back to myself, and I’m overwhelmed by the idea that while I’ve been chasing meaningless things, I’ve regressed in the things that are most important to me.” Jayme looked down. “I understand. But you have to remember that life is not linear in the sense that we are always moving forward or backward. Sometimes we circle back and round our experiences out with new perspectives. You may not be as flexible as you once were, or remember the terminology, but you’re back and committed as an adult. That takes courage.” Elle smiled.

In May of this year, I went through one of the most difficult breakups of my young adult life. It was one of those situations where love just simply wasn’t enough to make it work, and it was clear I needed to make serious changes if I ever wanted to achieve the life I dreamed of. I vividly remember thought spiraling, crying often, and still having to study for my cumulative finals coming up. Within that week, one of my closest girl friends gifted me Everything I Know About Love by Dolly Alderton for my twentieth birthday. It was convenient timing, I remember thinking to myself. I needed all the wisdom I could get when it came to that. I had previously been in a bit of a rut with reading, finding little time to indulge apart from studying. But this book, I was completely entranced. I think I sat on the couch the entire day just soaking it all up. From what I gathered, Dolly was a young, fabulous mess. Think Carrie Bradshaw, but without the rent-controlled apartment, and less centered around the validation of men. She chaotically reminisced on the perils of dating in modern London, making me laugh out loud or drop my jaw in shock on numerous occasions, but more importantly, she humbly reflected on her adventures with the greatest loves of her life, her female friends. I’ve had the privilege of being friends with some of the most kind, humble, and beyond impressive women, many of which I have met in the last four years, and a few I’ve known my entire life. It was them, my beautiful angels, who kept me busy and sane and cared for in the months I felt unlovable. It was the women in my life, who demonstrated pure, unconditional, and intentional love. What I learned from Dolly, which brilliantly mirrored my own intricate social life, is that platonic love at its core, is one of the most honorable, true, and delicate relationships we have to offer one another in our adult lives. Two people, often more, choosing to love and show up for each other, purely out of admiration and for the sake of engaging in companionship. Ever heard the saying, “It takes a village to raise a child?” Turns out the same thing is true for twenty-somethings balancing their education, internships, vibrant social calendar, messy relationships and physical well-being. As a little girl, I loved the idea of living in a house connected to my childhood friend’s by a tunnel in the air. Though I now have big, serious, adult ambitions when it comes to my education, this book reminded me to reconsider my childhood desires, and to tip toe the line of realism. I never dreamed of money or fame, no more than any other 10 year old, but of community and connection. But if I was going to be a famous pop-star, you bet my girls were coming along for the ride. My goals have shifted from chasing achievement to chasing communion, and I’ve been sprinting to be the best villager I can be ever since. I hope to continually foster my relationships with people I love and admire, and to be someone who works hard and shows up in support consistently, loving them through their hardest moments and through all the ways they evolve, as they have me. I really owe it all to the women in my life, and don’t deserve a single bit of it, but that’s the most beautiful part. Shoutout to Aibhlinn, my sweet and devastatingly intelligent friend. I love you.

I grew up in Southcentral Alaska, a beautiful and sacred land that, unfortunately, lacks educational resources and personal opportunities. My parents each chose to enter the workforce upon graduating high school, my dad working in construction, and my mom working various office positions in and out of state. Growing up, I was very dedicated to my education, and worked hard to keep a 4.0 throughout, and we agreed that college was the natural next step for me, as they always encouraged me to leave Alaska and try life in a new area that would allow me to grow and gain new perspectives. The application and decision process was grueling, and finances were a huge point of disagreement that would end every conversation in debilitating stress. It was both of our first times navigating college entrances, student loans, and hard adult conversations, and it placed a strain on our relationship nearly all of my senior year. Despite performing nearly perfectly all through high school, I fell flat on my face in my first semester at university, something my parents had warned me would happen. I struggled to stay focused, find community, and felt directionless and unprepared in this strange new stage of life. I then applied to become a member of First in the Pack, a first generation program at my university. I was assigned a mentor my freshman year who was unbelievably kind and allowed me the space to be vulnerable while encouraging me to work hard and try new things. With the support of my mentor and parents, I turned it all around the next semester, landing a place on the Dean’s List for academic achievement every semester since then, and finding a fulfilling job in finance that allowed me to learn and mentor students on personal finance. I became the Outreach and Education Coordinator for the program, developing social media strategies, planning events, developing financial literacy resources and curriculum for university courses, mentoring students one-on-one, and partnering with the university first generation programs I knew and loved. The more I worked with students and learned their stories, the more dedicated I became to improving access to financial education on my campus and beyond. In my second year of college, I switched my major to finance, and became more confident and focused than ever. It was through this work that I found purpose, not only in helping others navigate their financial lives, but in sharing the kind of college guidance and financial resources I wish had been available to me and my peers growing up. Now, a year out from graduation, I feel incredibly grateful for my experience as a first generation student, and am so grateful for the support from my family that has allowed me to make my hopes a reality. Post graduation, I hope to pursue my CFP certification, and hope to partner with non-profit organizations to bring financial education and safe financial counseling and planning to marginalized communities.

Everyone asks if I’ve ever seen a polar bear, or what it is like to still see the sun at one in the morning, but rarely does anyone ask about the culture of growing up in a state no one knows anything about. I grew up in Southcentral Alaska, a beautiful and sacred land that, unfortunately, lacks educational resources and personal opportunities. In my most formative years, I witnessed my community struggle with domestic violence, suicide, and poverty. I was fortunate to be raised by two parents who worked hard and gave generously to our neighbors and schools, instilling in me compassion and a dedicated work ethic. My dad, generous with money and resources, made sure that my brother and I were able to fully pursue our interests and support the causes we were most attuned to, and my mom, generous with her time and effort, volunteered in our schools and community unwaveringly. I didn’t understand how impactful their actions were until much later in life. Once I entered the University of Nevada, Reno as a first-year student, I arrived with the same ambition as many wide-eyed young adults: I wanted to change the world and make a positive impact. Originally, I pursued Kinesiology, with hopes set on becoming an athletic trainer and opening my own studio. During my first semester of school, I innocently applied to be a financial ambassador intern for my university’s financial literacy program, Nevada Money Mentors. Immediately, I was thrust into a whole new world, and my job became my entire focus. I found myself in the exact same position I was in as a child, witnessing financial struggle and confusion among my peers, but this time, I was in a position to make a difference. Upon educating myself, and through training, I became the Outreach and Education Coordinator for the program, developing social media strategies, planning events, developing financial literacy resources and curriculum for university courses, mentoring students one-on-one, and partnering with first generation programs. The more I worked with students and learned their stories, the more dedicated I became to improving access to financial education on my campus and beyond. In my second year of college, I switched my major to finance, and became more confident and focused than ever. It was through this work that I found purpose, not only in helping others navigate their financial lives, but in sharing the kind of guidance and resources I wish had been available to me and my peers growing up. Since I am entering my final year of undergraduate, I have high hopes for what this program will turn out to be, and plan to pour my all into ensuring it grows and reaches more students. In this next year, we are planning to expand mentorship and establish pop-up coaching in the dormitories, as well as tutor high school students on investing. I wholeheartedly believe that even the smallest exposure to financial education can help someone feel more equipped to handle life’s challenges, and that a safe place to share their fears and develop a plan can completely alter the course of someone’s life. Money may not buy happiness, but financial security can empower individuals to live with conviction and seize new opportunities fearlessly. Post graduation, I hope to pursue my CFP certification, and hope to partner with non-profit organizations to bring financial education and safe financial counseling and planning to marginalized communities.