If I were starting university today, things would be different. My thirst for knowledge now makes me envy the younger version of myself—the one who had the time and opportunity to learn without truly realizing its value.

I have a degree in international relations and political science, yet the depth of understanding I should have gained lingers like a ghost in my consciousness.

I studied philosophy, but I only memorized what would be on the test, purging it soon after. I read ancient Greek texts but never truly learned how to think critically or challenge my own perceptions of the world. I studied the Enlightenment, took exams on the causes of the English Civil War, yet now I can only vaguely piece together the ideals that emerged from those events.

I envy the younger me—the one who spent hours reading, listening to professors debate ideas I now find myself researching and relearning. If only I had appreciated then what I crave now.