By: Trinity Cunningham-Arce
My idea of life at eighteen was very different than it is from life now at twenty-three. I think we’ve all been there: wanting to grow up, needing to be our own person, and dying for some independence. When I applied for college, I was ready to run away to Miami on a full scholarship, but my reservations won out time and time again. I think it was that I hadn’t yet learned to fail because high school was easy, and dating boys was the toughest challenge I had yet to face.
You’re probably thinking, Okay, it’s been five years. That’s not much time, and you’re still so young.
And that’s absolutely true. Despite being young, though, I still grapple every day with my choices and whether they were right or wrong—and coming to terms with the neutrality in some decisions. It can be so hard to accept that a choice doesn’t have to be correct, it can just be. And at some point, I chose to shove aside all my hard work in high school to join the military.
Every time I think about it, I just need to pause, take a deep breath, and move on. This was the first time I had seriously failed. Namely, I failed myself. When I met with the recruiter, I signed a contract to be a Crypto Linguist with the hopes of learning Mandarin. I studied and did the work, then one thing led to another, and boom: no top-secret security clearance was granted to me, and so I was reassigned. And, no, I’m not a spy or anything crazy—just a teenager who did teenage things. That’s the past, though, and it’s behind me.
It was about this time that my Military Training Instructor (or MTI) became my first mentor. I cried it out to him, and he understood, then he told me to take a look around. Here I was, making a difference, being a leader—all things I did not see in myself at, then, nineteen. So, I squared my shoulders, resolved with the fact that I had already signed eight years (and yes, it’s eight) of my life away, and I persevered.
Let me tell you a little something about perseverance from a nineteen-year-old’s perspective. It does not look like a movie montage scene filled with strength and endurance, hitting life back as hard as it hit you. No, it’s filled with tears and mental breakdowns, calling your mom for help microwaving leftovers correctly, and so, so much reliance on others for support. Then comes the strength and endurance part of it all.
Despite my four years of ups and downs, and the four I still technically owe, there was some good that came out of it all. I pushed myself into my studies, and if you’re familiar with the work-life-school triangle of “how to manage your time,” that basically doesn’t apply to me here. I spent all day at work only to come home to homework and tests—sometimes exhausted after twelve-hour days of rigorous training. Those breaks in between were when I poured all my love and energy back into my friends and family, who supported me the whole way through. It was worth every second of it, too, to leave with my associate degree in Health Care Management and halfway through senior year of my bachelor degree in Biochemistry. Not to mention, the connections I’ve made and the mentors who molded me: those are invaluable.
Nothing, though, could have prepared me for the transition out of the military. Without the SkillBridge program, I’d probably be quite lost. Service members like to joke that the SkillBridge program gives “free labor” to companies through mutual benefit to the member, but it really is so much more than that. Participating in the SkillBridge program allowed me grace to find structure again after letting go of a rigorous schedule.
Starting my internship with Synterex was a breath of fresh air, though. Everyone always says, “It doesn’t matter if you get out because it’s the same on the outside.” Well, now I can happily report that it certainly is not the same! The respect and comradery among my colleagues blew my mind, as well as the ability to have a considerate conversation without the constant use of rank or “Sir/Ma’am.” Being treated as an equal while still being an intern and a learner was an experience in and of itself.
You’re probably saying “Sir” and “ma’am” are just ways to show respect! This girl is a complainer!
Well, no one ever made change because they were happy with the system, now did they? But that is beside the point! Synterex opened up doors for me that I didn’t know existed. It was especially exciting when I got to speak to different employees across each section, as part of my internship included about a week of shadowing in most sections. To hear that Synterex employees have unique degrees and qualifications in all sorts of things, and that many practically had past lives before settling into medical writing, inspired me to say the least. Even those who do not take part in the medical writing process themselves still come from interesting and versatile backgrounds, and many shared with me a piece of their story that I’ll carry with me for a long time.
Along with their stories, I got to learn the ins and outs about the process of developing medicine, which is amazing, as my dream is to make medicine. There are some things you just can’t Google. Experiencing this firsthand, looking at clinical documents and getting a genuine breakdown of the process from beginning to end, widened my scope.
I have also been quite fortunate to see all the moving gears of running a company. My parents are business owners and entrepreneurs themselves, but as an uninterested child, I never sat down to truly discuss it. My internship supplied me with the opportunity to see it firsthand and ask questions. Not to mention, my work shadowing multiple sections allowed me the flexibility to see where I fit in both as prior military and a current student. And wow! I am certainly not qualified to be a medical writer yet, but I can safely say that there is a wealth of knowledge here at Synterex for me to learn from.
So, my life at twenty-three isn’t what I thought it would be at eighteen, but I dare say, it’s a lot more interesting.
