The bell rings at Atlantic Coast High School. The hall is flooded with kids. All clashing shoulders. All trying to get where they need to go. Some are going slow. Some are going by themselves. Some are with a group of friends.
As I’m trying to get to class, a kid crashes into me, his books flying across the floor. All I can think of is how clumsy and annoying this random kid is.
What a selfish thought.
Sometimes I forget everyone is human, not just myself.
Because in that hallway of kids, there’s a valedictorian, there’s a kid struggling with a messy breakup, there’s a kid without any parents waiting for them at home, there’s someone with something no one would imagine going through. But it is happening, behind the curtains.
And even though we are all so different, at the end of the day we all have one thing in common.
We are all human.
We all share the human experience, but the human experience is so different for each person.
Some are struggling with their thoughts, screaming in their ear at every second of silence. Some are struggling with their grades, barely even having a 1.9 GPA. Some are struggling with the idea that they can never pursue what they truly love in life, being their parents’ puppet. And someone’s biggest struggle is picking what to wear every morning.
We are all different, yet all the same. The same species, same DNA, same history.
So, what unique human experiences do students on campus hide behind closed doors? Coastal Tides has asked students who they truly are if people really knew them. I decided to start with my own to get them going, and below my “If you really knew me” are examples from students on campus, followed by samples from other students who wanted to share their secrets.
The Human Experience
If you’ve ever had a class with me, you’ve probably heard someone describe me as:
“Tall”
“Loud”
“Extroverted”
“Know-it-all”
“Smart”
And though each remark of my disruptive and tall self is true, there’s so much more to me than being an “A” student. No one really knows who I am, not even myself.
I am the human equivalent of Frankenstein—each chunk of flesh from another soul, all messily stitched together into an abomination. An abomination with no place to go, no goal in life, nothing ambitious in the mind. Just a sad attempt at being a teenager.
I don’t really belong anywhere. I’m not smart enough to be a nerd. I’m not weird enough to be an outcast. I’m not normal enough to be considered basic. I’m not strong enough to be an athlete. I’m not charismatic enough to be everyone’s friend.
I’ve never been feminine enough. I’ve never been skinny enough. I’ve never been short enough. I never follow the narrative, even the ones of the ‘outcast.’
So, I’m loud.
My blathering mouth is simply a “cop out” for the monster that lies between each fiber of my being. A cry for help that maybe someone will think I am important to this world.
But at the end of the day, I’m just me. But who even am I?
That’s the thing. A jack of all trades and a master of none.
Why am I this way? Is this my unique prophecy noted in the stars? Is this the experience written for me in my past lives, bound to be my struggle with this life?
I’ll never know. I just have to keep making it through the motions of the human experience.
– Vanna Mocas
_________________________________
If you knew me, you’d know I want to be an author when I grow up. My whole life, creating new worlds has been a part of me. I would doodle and construct stories bigger than I was. Sketchbooks would be filled to the brim with my different characters. I wore my pencils down to the nubs with my infinite ideas. And one day, hopefully, I would like to share those ideas with the world.
– S.W.
_________________________________
If you knew me, you would know how I have a splinter of doubt in the back of my mind. I am sure of myself but not so much my purpose. Despite the signs from God and positive affirmations from friends, I am not sure I am destined for something great. No matter how many A+ essays and how many views my films get, perhaps I’ll never be sure. When good things happen, I wonder if this is just a fluke or perhaps God is teasing me. I question how much people actually like me and swim in the “what if” scenarios that splash through my mind. After all, I am an overthinker. Even if I accept there’s a bigger calling for me, I will beat myself up about not living up to expectations — pushing myself to be the greatest, but missing the greater point of helping others. I need to focus less on others and more on growing myself, being the person I was put on this earth to be.
– I.E.
_________________________________
If you knew me, you’d know my sister means everything to me. People see us as just siblings, but they don’t realize how much she has shaped me, how much I owe to her. She’s been there for me in ways no one else has, through every high and low, every moment when I felt like I had no one. She was the one who reminded me that I wasn’t alone. She’s the person I go to when I need advice, when I need to vent, or when I just need someone who gets me without me having to explain myself. No matter how much time passes or how much changes, I know she’ll always be there. To know me is to know her.
– D.M.
_________________________________
If you knew me, you’d know that I thrive off nostalgia. I can’t function without it. I don’t just remember the past; I live in it, constantly chasing the feeling of simpler times. There’s something about old Disney Channel movies from the 2000s that feel like a time machine, taking me back to carefree afternoons when my biggest worry was whether my favorite show was coming on next. I’ll rewatch Camp Rock or The Suite Life Movie for the hundredth time, not because I don’t know what happens, but because it reminds me of when life felt easier, when the world wasn’t moving so fast, and when the future didn’t feel so uncertain.
Beyond movies, I find myself digging through old photos like a detective searching for lost moments. My mom’s Facebook albums? A goldmine. I scroll through them late at night, seeing pictures of birthday parties, school field trips, and vacations I barely remember but desperately want to hold onto. I study every detail, the outfits, the cringey poses, the way everything seemed so effortlessly happy because it makes me feel connected to a version of myself I don’t want to lose.
It’s not that I don’t enjoy the present, but there’s something about the past that feels warmer, like a favorite hoodie you refuse to get rid of even when it doesn’t quite fit the same anymore. Maybe it’s my way of coping with change, or maybe I just like the comfort of things that feel familiar. Either way, if you knew me, you’d know that I don’t just reminisce, I live in the memories, because sometimes, they’re the only thing that makes the future feel a little less intimidating.
– V.P.
_________________________________
If you really know me … you would know I have a deep love for solitude. I enjoy spending time alone, with my thoughts and my own company. It allows me to reflect. Recharge and find clarity in my life. However, despite my love for being alone, I struggle with feeling alone. It’s a conflicting feeling that I have yet to fully understand.
Growing up, I longed for a strong and loving relationship with my family. I longed for that sense of belonging and support in the people around me. I have learned to surround myself with friends who have become my chosen family. Their constant love and support have filled a void in my life, and I am grateful for their presence. I have learned that family is not always defined by blood, but the bonds we create with each other.
– R.W.
