“When I was in late middle school, I switched over to a nearby private school. That was not the easiest thing; I was one of four new kids in the grade, the only new girl of the year. I found myself going for walks a lot in a loop near my house. That loop has become a big comfort thing for me. During the first COVID summer, I spent a lot of time alone doing that walk; 10 o’clock at night, “Mom, I’m going for a walk. I’ll see you at midnight, leave the door unlocked.” Because of that, I feel like COVID wasn’t a super dreary time for me. Even though I was a bit socially isolated, doing that walk with the way the air smelled, the wind blowing, and the sounds and feelings of being outdoors – it is really uplifting. Sometimes when I am in a good mood, I try to drag my sister or my mom and dad out with me, just to spend time and chat with them. In Hanover, in the fall and spring, I also spend a ton of time going for “Woccoms” (walks around Occom Pond). 

I am a naturally outgoing person and I really care about making people feel seen. At the times I feel my lowest, it’s because I feel unseen by the people around me. And at the times I feel my best, it’s when I feel like the people around me know and care about me. If I am somewhere where there are new people, I will spontaneously go up and pull them into the conversation. I know if I were uncomfortable in a new setting, I would want someone to do that for me.

I have spent a lot of time learning the difference between helping someone the way I think is the right way and letting someone else decide how I help them. In the past, I treated sadness the way I treat discomfort. I would bring people in, show them I’m there, and talk with them. And while I think that is helpful when someone feels uncomfy in a new situation, sadness is different.

I saw my friend crying with someone at a table the other day, and my immediate reaction was that I needed to go over there, join the conversation, and see if she was okay. But she might not want people going up to her while she’s crying, so I sent her a text: Hey, I’m a few tables away, eating my breakfast. I’m not gonna crowd you. You do your thing, but I’m here if you need anything. Let me know. That, for me, was significantly harder. I think I’m always trying to grow my empathy skills to respect other people’s needs, and sometimes that means I don’t need to be involved.”

– Kayleigh Bowler, ’24