Mission 100 Days: Brand New Eyes

By Sophia K. Asher, Multimedia Director

For most of my life, I felt like a caterpillar, with a butterfly inside me waiting to emerge. I’ve always been a little different, with a brain that works in its own way. Because of that, I’d often shut down. I never quite knew how to act, and, for lack of a better word, I could come across as awkward or off-putting.

But within that “different” brain lived a vibrant girl – funny, loud and unapologetically herself. “I wish they could see the real Sophie,” my dad would always say. It hurt to see how much it affected my parents to watch me struggle. Sometimes I’d wish I could change, just so they wouldn’t have to worry about me anymore.

But more than anything, I wanted to change for myself. I wanted to feel good and finally show the world my butterfly. When I started at Canisius in the fall of 2022, I tried so hard to emerge. 

The reality was – emerging did not come easily.

I like to joke that I had the worst freshman year in all of history. I was extremely depressed, starting out in a four-person quad with a group of people who completely ostracized me. On top of that, I was in a manipulative relationship, navigating everything alone while living away from home for the very first time.

Nothing seemed to want to take me in – nobody in the dining hall, nobody at random club meetings, not even the sorority (at least at first). The world felt so unkind, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I was the problem. I was relentlessly trying to change, but everything around me seemed determined to tear me down. 

Besides watching my former internet crush solve Wordles every day at 4:00 pm on TikTok Live, there was one thing – well, one place – that actually brought me happiness my freshman year: The Griffin Office.

Looking back on it now, my first year on The Griffin was pathetic. I felt like that meme of homeless Squidward, holding out a cup and asking for ‘spare change.’

I literally did not have a position on staff, but the members were kind and welcoming, so I’d sit in the office every Thursday from about 6-7:30 p.m., just for some socialization. Sometimes, being in the office was the only time I’d speak to anyone all week.

I was eventually given the position “assistant multimedia director” (lame). At the general body meeting, I approached Ava Green, the former features editor who also ran the socials. I told her I was interested in social media, probably to her surprise, but it worked out. 

I started helping her post on Twitter (X) every other Friday and would wander around campus with the latest edition of the paper, snapping pics of it for the ‘gram.

​​The highlight of my freshman year was The Griffin trip to San Francisco – which I still can’t believe I attended so young. It was the first time I truly felt a sense of belonging. The trip helped me form small friendships with some of the girls on staff, who I got to know better through the latter half of my freshman spring semester. 

And just like that, freshman year was over. 

Despite the few positives I endured, I dreaded returning to Canisius for my sophomore year. Things may have progressed, but I still didn’t feel at home.

However, to my surprise, sophomore year was an improvement by a landslide. I did some really cool stuff, tackling Canisius head-on like a bull. Even if I wasn’t enjoying school quite yet, I was determined to make the most of the experience. I thought of myself as a Weeble Wobble: I might wobble, but I’ll never fall down.

And I never did. On a whim, I enrolled in the Travel Photography course that included a 10-day trip to Southern Italy. I went with a group I might have called acquaintances – but not friends (yet) – and made the experience entirely my own. Before that, I flew across the country for the second time to La Jolla, leaving little pieces of my personality along the way.

My parents watched me grow. “You don’t know how mentally tough you are,” my dad would tell me from time to time. I didn’t think I was particularly “tough,” but looking back now, I truly was. I was living in hell my first year – waking up every day filled with doom and despair (which sounds hilarious but it's true). I threw myself into all these activities and showed up because I wanted to be better, not because I had to. I still hadn’t found my core community, but the best was still to come.

By this point, I’d entered my cocoon stage. I had grown, but I wasn’t finished yet.

Coming back for my junior year, I felt… decent. I sensed it would be my year: my breakthrough, my emergence into a butterfly.

I was really excited to move in with my roommate, a girl named Maddie Kotch. For the past three semesters, I had lived alone, so the idea of living with someone nice and outgoing felt refreshing. I reached out to her on Instagram and learned she was friends with Ava, The Griffin’s Editor-In-Chief. Ava assured me we’d be a great match and get along really well.

Luckily, we hit it off immediately. There were rarely more than a few hours when we didn’t talk. We made nightly pilgrimages to the dining hall – as the only two upperclassmen who refused to cook – watched TV together and ranted about our various problems.

In a sappy way, I truly owe Maddie a lot. Being roommates gave me the boost I needed to show off my “Sophie.” She introduced me to a wider network of people I’d only known casually from The Griffin office, and I finally connected with them – and grew even closer to Maddie and Ava. 

Some friends encouraged me to try out for the sorority, Phi Sig, again, even though I was hesitant after being rejected the first time. I’m so glad I went for it, because they’ve become an amazing community of girls to lean on.

In a nutshell, junior year was incredibly good to me. I returned to The Griffin, gained experience in other clubs like the American Marketing Association and the admissions team – where I got to know some amazing student marketers – looked forward to watching random shows with Maddie and Gabby on weeknights and overall, truly enjoyed my young adulthood for the first time.

Leaving junior year, I was genuinely sad. Most of my friends were graduating, and I felt nervous about starting from square one. Even though many would stay in Buffalo, it just wouldn’t be the same.

So, how am I doing now, here in my senior year?

As I sit here typing this, I’m as happy as I’ve ever been – and I mean that sincerely – because I realize that, right here and now, I am finally a butterfly.

As I dance to “Pop Muzik” at Mr. Goodbar, take a slightly terrifying ride to 7Brew (because Maddie Smith is driving) or sit in an Applebee’s eating mediocre appetizers, I’ve come to a realization: it was never supposed to be so hard. 

You need to surround yourself with the people, places and things that feel easy. When you’re in the right community, you don’t have to change who you are or force your way in. Your butterfly comes out on its own.

Your people will bake you Christmas cookies without asking – and package them in little goodie bags. They’ll let you come to their apartment for days after a breakup, just to find a sliver of serotonin. They’ll fly out to visit you and sleep on your basement floor. They’ll FaceTime you every Thursday for three months just to watch “Dancing with the Stars.”

They’ll love you, and see your quirks as funny instead of strange. People were finally seeing the girl my dad had been describing for years. 

I remember talking with a friend once: “People find you endearing,” she said, “They genuinely enjoy making you happy.” 

That idea felt almost unreal. I had found supportive communities before – despite how it might seem – but hearing it said out loud was different. I didn’t know I could be loved like that.

Usually, I’m self-deprecating and tend to feel like I don’t deserve the good things that come my way. But right now, I know I deserve this life – more than ever – because I made it happen.

But thank you – thank you, THANK YOU – to all the people and things that carried me through this journey. To my Phi Sig group, the friends I worried I wouldn’t find after Class of 2025 graduated. To everyone in “Post Grad Hangout,” especially the girls who make me feel so loved every day. To my mom, who loves me fiercely, willing to fight anything that could ever hurt me. To my dad, the person who I think understands me better than anyone, who has always believed in me. And most importantly, to The Griffin Newspaper, which has been with me since the very beginning and saw me as worthy before I could see it in myself.

To close out this piece, I want to explain the title. Somewhat embarrassingly, I named this 100 Days article after the album “Brand New Eyes” by Paramore. The title suggests personal growth, a new perspective and letting go of old assumptions. The butterfly on the cover – a tiger swallowtail – symbolizes finally emerging, tracing the journey from caterpillar to cocoon to butterfly. It was Sophie’s journey.