Hawaii: My First Semester

I've seen many of these posts floating around the blogging world in the past.

You know the ones.

The ones that make you ache for careless days in the sun, laying on the beach and digging your toes to the cool, dark sand, the steady drum of the ocean beating to a magical rhythm of beauty and power and  mystery. The ones that bring you back to palm trees and waiting for The Bus and fresh pineapple juice dripping down your chin. The ones that remind you that once upon a time, all you had to worry about was your hair going flat, not getting caught by the Honor Code, and turning an assignment in on time (though that last one really was a big worry of mine).

I'm talking about the sickly sweet blog posts of Nostalgia. And I don't think anyone but BYU-Hawaii alumni reallllly know what I am talking about. But it's my turn to reminisce.



Here's my Hawaii story, beginning with my first semester:

The first week in Hawaii was spent with my mom and Grams, who had flown out with me. I did some silly freshmen orientation stuff and met a few friends along the way. It was hard to say goodbye to my mom, but we both knew it was time.

After my mom left, things went downhill for awhile. You see, I still had a boyfriend back home - one that would be going on a mission in a few months, one that my mother hated, and one that my dad thought was a joke....It wasn't until I moved a couple thousand miles away from him that I slowly began to realize what my mom had been trying to tell me for the past 6 months: This kid was manipulative and downright emotionally abusive. I spent the first two months of my college career - IN HAWAII - stranded in my jail-cell of a dorm room, my hands glued to the phone, talking to this boy who claimed he loved me. If I wanted to make friends, he accused me of not loving him anymore because he should be all I needed. If I wanted to go to the beach, he needed me right then or else he wouldn't believe I still wanted to be with him. Now, I don't put all the blame on him. I obviously was wrapped up enough in his roller-coaster emotions to care more about his well-being than my own life. But slowly, ever so slowly, I began to stick up for myself.


I wrote in my journal:
"It seems I can't have much happiness these days because once I start to smile, the guilt creeps back up again."  -- September 11, 2008
"I am not doing good today. I'm very depressed, lonely, sick. I called [name] looking for comfort and only found more sorrow." --- September 21
"I'm so tired everyday. and I don't even do anything on the weekends. I've spent so much time trying to help [name] that I don't have any time to help myself." ---- September 28
"[Name] was in a bad mood and I just....I want to be sensitive to his feelings, but I also want him to grow up a little." --- October 19
"This week has been hell with [Name]. So many hurtful events - I've been stretched to the limit, far too much stress for my poor heart to handle. He has pushed me to the point that I have bitter feelings towards him. I have put a wall up, I've reached that "I honestly don't care anymore" point. I think I got the point across tonight that he has some major problems. He sees how poorly he treated me, that he abused me. And I see that, too. I see I don't deserve that." ---- October 25


After two months of the darkest days of my life, my lowest lows - I finally conquered my scariest demons. And I had Hawaii to thank for it. Let me show you why:


My roommate (who I had harshly and falsely judged before meeting her) became one of my best friends and a great example of a strong, independent woman.

I made other friends, too. Like Katie B. We would take the bus to Waimea and spend all day in the sun, eating our squished Caf sandwiches and jumping off the rock.

And then there was Katie S. We met in Beginning French class, where we both got bumped up to the next class up. She had family in Idaho and we just instantly clicked. I liked her the second I saw her. I knew she was a special one.

My first (and only) bike in Hawaii. It got stolen a few times, and I'd randomly find it in various places.  

On the first day of one of my classes, I overheard a woman talking about how she needed a babysitter. I don't know why I did it, but after class I walked right up to her and told her I would babysit for her. I had to completely change around my schedule to make it work, but I did it. That was one of the best things I did for myself that semester. These boys and that family were another contributing factor to my happiness. They were the quintessential Polynesian family: worked at the PCC, treated me like family even though I was a stranger, welcomed me into their home, and just showed me what the spirit of Aloha truly meant. I loved them so much. I spent so much time in their little apartment - it just felt good to be back in a family environment. 

I also worked as a dishwasher at the PCC for a few months. It was a dirty, hard job. I came home every night smelling like throw up - but I loved my co-workers (one of whom invited me to smoke pot with him. On campus. Silly kid).

Hawaii is where I took my first photography classes and bought my first camera --- and I honestly think that photography is what dragged me out of my cave of depression. I started taking pictures - of people, of the beautiful scenery around me, of everything. I saw that I was good at something, and realized I was worth more than what I had previously thought.

I started to really miss playing soccer, as I had played it all four years in high school. So I would occasionally take pictures at the girl's soccer games. 

That's when I decided to take a risk and apply for a job as a photographer for the school newspaper.  I got the job.

(I liked the "taking pictures" part a lot better than the "being in the office" part)

Once I even attempted to go sky-diving. We took the bus out, I signed the papers, I was waiting my turn, my nerve was built up: And then they had to cancel our dive due to weather. I never made it back.

In November I started dating a guy who failed to mention to me that he would be graduating the next month and therefore moving off-island. It turned out alright though, because I found out when he broke up with me on Facebook that he was a pretty big pansy. Not much of a loss there.

December came around and I had finished my first semester of college. My dad came to visit me for a week and we flew to Maui and Kauai. 

Unfortunately my dad left two days before Christmas. I spent Christmas Eve alone in a dorm room. I read my scriptures and called my family, but still ended up sobbing through the majority of the night. If Christmas alone doesn't teach you to appreciate your family, I'm not sure what will. The next day I moved in with the family I babysat for until school started back up in January. 

During the break is when I got really close to two awesome people: Allyson and Chas. Since we were pretty much the only ones left on the island for Christmas, we hung out all the time. We went on tons of hikes, watched New Year's Eve fireworks, watched movies, went to the beach, and cruised around. Ally is one of the wisest girls I've met - she is intelligent and deep and probably the least judgmental person there is. 

I will tell you a story about Ally to illustrate how dedicated she is. Right before Christmas break, Laie flooded. Big time. Like, electricity-out, school-cancelled, rivers-in-the-street flooded. 

That morning I had gone out to Hukilau beach where people were filling trash bags with sand to put in front of people's houses. I helped fill sand bags and then carried them around the neighborhood to whoever needed them. When I was about to head back to my house, there I found Ally, walking her bike (because, for some reason, she couldn't ride it through the feet of water) to campus. I caught up to her and asked her what in the world she was doing. She huffed and puffed, still heading in the direction of the school. "I've got to get to the library. I have to print this paper I just finished and turn it in."

I said, "Ally, are you kidding me? The library's not even open. School's cancelled."

It was like she was oblivious to the rain around her, so focused was she on turning in that paper. I loved that girl.

Borrowing Chas's shorts after drudging through the flooded streets

Lastly, what healed me the most was....

The ocean. Nothing heals like the ocean. I felt closer to God, closer to myself, closer to being the piece of this universe that I wanted to be - when I was near the ocean. When I chose my off-campus house to move into the next semester, I chose one closest to the beach. I was right across the street from it, and I spent many solo hours in the cool, clear water or lying on the sand, listening to the waves and just thinking and soaking up the beauty. It's what I ache for most when I think about Hawaii.

After those first rough months, Hawaii was a dream. An absolute crazy world of happiness and doing exactly what I wanted to be doing when I wanted to be doing it.  I started having adventures. I started seeing I was good at things - really good. I started dating again. I started excelling in my classes. I started to find out who I was and who I wanted to be in this life. 

I started to grow up.

Christmas break was coming to a close, and the second semester of college was about to begin. I was moving off campus and into a house, and I was starting to think that maybe, instead of transferring to BYU Provo, where my  major was, just maybe I would take a risk and just.....stay.