What a difference four years can make.
In May 2021, I stared myself down in my bathroom mirror. One arm on the counter, the other gripping the first knife I could find out of the kitchen drawer. After a few moments of contemplation that felt like an eternity, I dropped the knife and on the verge of tears, sheepishly knocked on my mom’s door.
It was hard to verbalize the anguish I felt in that moment, but one look at me was all she needed to know that I was in pain. We went out to get a midnight sundae at McDonald’s. Not much was said that night, but after months of uncertainty and feeling numb to the world, that was the first time in a long time that I felt… okay. That perhaps, there would be a light at the end of the tunnel. That maybe, just maybe, I’d be able to smile again one day after being engulfed in darkness for so long.
Between the COVID-19 pandemic, being turned down from more schools than I have fingers to count them on and struggling with personalized anxiety in my already-fledgling hometown friendships, my senior year of high school nearly destroyed me mentally, physically and spiritually.
But it didn’t. It laid the foundation to build a springboard for myself. One that I could use to leap out of the trenches of despair — and back into the hopeful and happy-go-lucky kid I was back in the day.
The four-year-old with a buzzcut that looked like a Thumb Thumb from Spy Kids. The nine-year-old who screamed “Good job, good effort!” at the Miami Heat and briefly became Internet famous as his childhood team won their second championship. The 14-year-old who came back into the American Airlines Arena five years later, this time working as a kid broadcaster on the Miami Heat’s sidelines — an event that ignited what was soon to become my passion for sports journalism.
For a while, that joy was nowhere to be found. At 18 years old, I had lost myself and seemingly forgotten everything that made my life worth living. But over the next four years, I remembered. I remembered that in order to take care of other people, I have to take care of myself. I remembered that when someone comes at you and tries to tear you down, the best thing you can do is smile and rise above their pettiness. I remembered that laughter is one of the best ways to not only make friends, but keep them. And above all else, I remembered that my goal in life should always be to serve as a beacon of positivity, both for myself and for everyone around me.
As I rediscovered all of these fragments of my spirit that had previously gone missing, everything started to fall back into place once again. I worked my way up the UF journalism school ladder, both with my television and writing work. I made countless new connections and told so many new stories, both on a large and a small scale. I traveled the world, ranging from overseas destinations like Munich and Paris to spots closer to home like Omaha and Knoxville.
Looking back at all I’ve accomplished in my four years at UF, I feel like 18-year-old Jack would be proud — and also just flat-out stunned. But what he doesn’t know is that there’s still so much more to come. With graduation right around the corner and a world full of opportunities to follow it, this new chapter in my life is sure to be full of uncertainty. But I’m ready to face it head on, whatever may come. Good or bad, I know the man upstairs has a plan for me, and all the hard times that are to ensue are just meant to shape and strengthen me into my ever-evolving final form.
To my friends of the past, thank you for sticking it out with me. For staying by my side even when I thought of myself as a lost cause. No matter what’s happened in the past and what may happen down the road, you’ll always hold special places in my heart for being the ones that helped me hang on.
To my friends of the present, thank you for allowing me to realize my full potential over these last four years. From the newsroom to the streets of midtown, the memories I’ve made in this span will always stick with me, and none of it would’ve been without you all.
To my family, thank you for always being my rock. You loved me and supported me whenever I was down, and now, you’ve continued to do so while I’m back up. Dad, you have a heart of gold, seeing the good in situations I could have never found my way out of otherwise. Marisol, you’re my forever best friend. Even whenever we’ve butted heads or engaged in the typical sibling rivalry tropes, you’ve always brought the best out of me and been my number one fan in whatever I do.
And mom, there’s a lot of things I can thank you for. I could write an entire column about all the ways you’ve provided a healing touch and the necessary pushes in my life to keep me afloat. But for now, I’ll just say thank you for that McDonald’s sundae. It did more for me than I could ever properly express in words. That sundae marked the point where I went from hopeless to a beacon of hope — an outlook I plan to keep for the rest of my days.
Jack Meyer was the Spring 2025 sports editor.
Jack Meyer is a fourth-year journalism major and the Sports Editor for The Alligator. In his free time, he enjoys reviewing music, spending time with friends, playing video games and going to the gym.
