Dear Stanford,

It’s been seven months since I began my academic suspension journey. So — besides the visit to see my friend’s Ph.D. defense and celebrate at Chabad afterward — that means it’s been seven months away from you. I still remember the day (April 15) that I emptied out my dorm room (Paloma 200) like it was yesterday. As I’m sure you can imagine, so much has changed since then.

In stark contrast to what led me to leave you in the first place, I’ve started to take meaningful steps to address my physical and mental health. I went to my annual physical, got three of my wisdom teeth extracted and even found myself a therapist. Whenever things got really bad, I used to go to the Bridge or see someone at Counseling and Psychological Services (CAPS) — but without ever trying to understand why I was headed in the direction I was. In hindsight, I know that it only delayed the inevitable. Now, I feel proud of myself for trying to be in a better place. 

Believe it or not, I’ve also managed to hold down a job since June! I know you might be thinking: He had such a rough time on campus. I’m kind of surprised that Sebastian has a job now. I work at a grocery store in Pacifica. Yes, plenty of customers do annoying things in the store. I’ve also gotten to know some really nice co-workers. What stood out to me the most, though, is when my first paycheck came in. I finally felt like I was doing something right for a change.

In very real ways, my time away from you has helped me realize that I’m more than my mistakes. I have an easier time seeing that my academic, financial and emotional shortcomings aren’t all that there is to me. Without shame, I can spend more time on what I enjoy. 

I can’t thank you enough for introducing me to my passion: writing for The Daily. I’ve continued to use my writing as an outlet (a good one, finally) for self-expression and advocacy, having tackled things like life as a bi male survivor, mental health and campus democracy. I feel more comfortable with the kind of person that I am because of this new chapter at The Daily. Not only that, but I’ve gained an even deeper appreciation for the people of The Daily. I won’t see many of them again, but I will always cherish the memories of production nights, spirited editing conversations and the marvelous misadventures with quote board shenanigans.

Thanks to you, I’ve also had quite the cooking journey. This all started when I made chicken adobo (shoutout to my fellow Filipinos) in the Mirlo kitchenette. Since then, I’ve made creamy tomato gnocchi from scratch, salmon pasta, jambalaya and a wide variety of sweet treats. Every now and then, I think about what it might be like to cook on campus again — perhaps for a future special someone or the residents I could have if I’m an RA down the line. Regardless of how that turns out, I’ve had a fun time getting to explore in the kitchen. I have you to thank for that.

Don’t get me wrong — this hasn’t been an easy time. A few things were hard to get used to in the early stages: I tried using my student ID to enter my apartment’s laundry room, it took a while to stop staying up late on Thursdays for The Daily’s print production and I even craved Indian food on Sundays like I did back in FloMo. I’ve long been a person of habit. On a deeper level, however, it showed how hard it was to start living life away from you.

You’ve given me a lot, and I will be forever grateful. Seeing campus activism with my own eyes helped me step forward to speak in support of a ceasefire resolution at a Daly City Council meeting. Getting to know graduate workers that served in student government taught me the importance of solidarity for the greater good. Meeting a certain someone in FloMo even helped me come out as bi in the first place. 

I still have a ways to go before I can be worthy of you again. Whenever I see you again, if at all, I hope that I can do better. I could hit the ground running again through the public policy major, do even more editorially in The Daily and maybe serve in the Undergraduate Senate. Most of all, however, I could finally appreciate the people on campus in the ways that I should have last time. After all, I did take my friendships, dormmates and occasional romantic interactions for granted.

I would write the next chapter with you — whatever it may send my way — with clarity and purpose. As much as I’ve missed out on and as much as I felt broken the last time around, I hope that our paths cross again someday. 

With Cardinal love, 

Sebastian