When I look in the mirror, I sometimes see a glimpse of a girl with a white duty coat and a stethoscope around her neck, ready to go to the hospital for her shift. Her life is stable, easy and comfortable, surrounded by family and friends.
I was a second-year medical university student when the 2021 military coup happened in Burma. Then, I withdrew myself from my military-controlled university for the Civil Disobedience Student Movement. Afterwards, I devoted myself full time to pro-democracy activism, refugee advocacy and education for almost three years after the coup.
The idea of resuming my education never really crossed my mind during those years because I was deeply engaged in meaningful work on the ground and genuinely enjoying it. However, I eventually realized that without a proper education — a college degree — there was a clear limit to how much impact and credibility my activism could have in the future and what people would perceive of it. This is especially true if I want to expand it to the global stage.
So, after four years away from an academic setting, I finally decided to start college again — this time studying my true passion: politics and human rights. And, luckily, someone from the Duke Undergraduate Admission Office chose to believe in a 22-year-old student from a messed-up country with messed-up life experiences and educational background.
I struggled academically because, after several years away from the traditional academic setting, my brain was no longer used to studying. So, I had to force myself to rewire my brain to adapt to this “going to classes, doing homework and taking exams” reality. I had to invest more effort into my studies just to be on the same par with my young, energetic, freshly out-of-school American peers. I spent most of my first semester overwhelmingly studying in my room while my peers were having a seemingly balanced academic and social life. At least, the grades paid off, but they severely came at the expense of my college social life and fun activities.
Worse, the social struggle hit me harder. I have struggled to make reliable friends because of my “old” age. Things are all fine until the topic of age comes into the conversation. There is always some level of awkwardness and distance between my peers and me after they learn how old I am. Seeing a freshman even older than a senior is clearly not the norm here. And of course, they mostly want same-age peers. It is all natural, easy and comfortable.
I never fully understood that an age gap automatically creates a disconnect in relationships. I am still Gen Z. I listen to the same music, keep up with the same trends, and know pretty much everything my 18-year-old peers do. People even say I could easily pass as 18 — probably thanks to my Asian genes and, of course, my trusty hair bangs. So, on the surface, nothing is setting me apart. I thought blending in would be effortless.
I was too naïve to think things would be that simple.
A deep emotional intelligence and maturity level often comes with age and lived experience. People who have faced real difficulties usually develop resilience and perspective, which shows in how they handle challenges and navigate life with a sense of quiet wisdom that feels different from those who have not been tested in the same way. I have realized this concept firsthand through several human connections with my younger friends at Duke.
Since many of my peers usually come from privileged family backgrounds and are from prosperous and peaceful countries, many have not faced struggles like mine (yet). On top of that, they are still teenagers — an age known for being impulsive and unpredictable. So, I have felt firsthand how they often act purely on emotion, usually without considering the damaging impact of their volatile words and actions on meaningful relationships — and it always breaks my heart.
Additionally, as we grow older, our priorities shift, sometimes drastically, from what we once wanted. So, for many of my peers, college is about exploring, pushing boundaries, and embracing that “young, wild and free” lifestyle. For me, it is about making the most of every opportunity, never taking anything for granted and staying focused and serious on my personal and bigger mission for my people. Also at the same time, my peers chase fun, adventure and new experiences — constantly trying out new things or new relationships — I long for stability, peace of mind and deeper, more committed connections.
It is not that either of us is wrong; we are just on completely different wavelengths, according to our significantly different lived experiences. Of course, there are always exceptions, and I would love to meet a few people who do not fit this general pattern. However, it could also be unfair or too much to expect mature attitudes and behaviors from teenagers. So, I have come to accept that I cannot blame anyone for this; it is what it is.
Whenever I complain about social problems, my parents and friends from Burma offer me some advice: don’t reveal my actual age to anyone.
But one thing I hate the most in the world is hiding my true self and living in lies. Not disclosing my age would also mean hiding my resilient past — a core part of my identity. So, it is better to face the truth and live freely, although it might also mean isolation, than to surround myself with people I cannot even share my age with because that might upset them.
The right people will still choose me regardless of our so-called age gaps. I just need to be lucky enough to find them.
Of course, despite the struggles, I am still grateful for everything I have right now. When life challenges us, we only have two options: let it crush us or rise above it and fight back — and I always try to fight back. I always remind myself that these challenges make me more resilient and grounded in my life missions.
The girl from the mirror and I have led different paths. I still think about her sometimes, but I also know that despite everything, I would choose this path again. After all, even when the road is uncertain and the weight of my choices feels heavy, I know I am exactly where I am meant to be right now.
Myat Theingi is a Trinity first-year from Burma. Her pieces typically run on alternate Wednesdays.
Get The Chronicle straight to your inbox
Sign up for our weekly newsletter. Cancel at any time.