In the Beginning

October 2025

High school felt like walking into a rated-R movie. Not because of the violence or language, but because the script suddenly got darker, louder, and more complicated, and I didn't have a role I was comfortable playing.

Most people I knew tried to find their part fast: the athlete, the overachiever, the popular one, the rebel. I didn't fit any of those molds. I spent my after-school hours filming finger skateboarding videos and editing them with overly dramatic music. I wasn't chasing a spotlight. I just wanted to stay grounded.

That grounding came from one place, a book I never really chose but always returned to: the Bible.

At first, it didn't feel revolutionary. It was just part of the background noise of my life. But I started to notice how often it nudged me away from paths that felt easy. It helped me steer through peer pressure without becoming self-righteous. It reminded me to sit with the loner kid at lunch, and to relate to him more than the group I could have identified with. It gave me the quiet courage to say no without needing to explain myself.

At one point, I found myself frustrated trying to answer this very prompt. I couldn't name a single grand moment where the Bible changed everything. No sudden conversion story, no dramatic save. But that's when it hit me. I was looking for a spotlight moment, when in reality, my faith has been the lighting crew: always there, shaping the way I see the world, even if no one notices.

It's shaped how I think, what I value, and who I gravitate toward. Adults call me "wise beyond my years," but really, I've just had the same compass for a long time. It fits in my back pocket and starts with "In the beginning."

Now, standing at the edge of another transition, high school to college, I'm not looking to play a part or find a label. I'm just hoping to keep walking forward with the same quiet clarity I've had all along.