This week I turned twenty-five, and just like that, a decade past my metamorphic teenage years. I have been contemplating a lot lately, like what it felt like to be young and naïve at fifteen. I remember not being able to perceive much beyond “SELF.” I was preoccupied by daily anxieties: my physical appearance, my grades, and seeking a sense of belonging. I was still trying to understand true “calling.” My involvement and commitment to faith was compliant to what my parents wanted for me (I thank God that my parents consistently planted that seed with love). I just couldn’t comprehend the grander scheme of God, greater than “SELF.” God, who gave me purpose regardless of my achievements and self-righteousness.