Me in 500 Words

Photo: Victoria Sinchi

Graduating from Kennedy Catholic Preparatory School 

with Julia Xenos and Professor Venturini

The Person Who Carries You

By Giulianna Reid

For as long as I can remember, my nickname in the household was "Miss Independent".

I wanted to braid my own hair, so I taught myself.

I wanted to feel pretty at school, so I watched countless make-up tutorials.

I wanted to help people, so at only 9 years I decided to work in health care.

That independence followed me into high school, where I believed strength meant doing everything alone and never asking for help. Then I met Julia, and the story I told myself about who I had to be began to loosen its grip. We were teenagers navigating lockers, exams, and big dreams, but she had a calm confidence that felt steady beside my constant motion. Julia listened in a way that made silence feel safe, and she asked questions that pushed me to think deeper about my choices.

Photo: Selfie

Julia Xenos 

I was used to charging forward alone, yet she walked with me, matching my pace, reminding me that companionship did not weaken my drive. Whenever I stumbled, Julia never rushed to fix things, but she stayed present, proving support could be quiet and powerful. Through late-night talks and shared bus rides home, she showed me that trusting someone else was not surrender, but strength.

I started to let her see my doubts, my fears, and the pressure I placed on myself to always succeed. In return, Julia shared her own vulnerabilities, creating a balance where growth happened because we lifted each other. She challenged me kindly, calling me out when I hid behind independence instead of asking for what I needed.

Over time, I learned that leaning on someone did not erase my capability; it expanded it. Julia pushed me to be the best version of myself by believing in me, especially when my belief wavered. She celebrated my wins, grounded me in losses, and reminded me that no one becomes whole in isolation.

Our friendship quietly rewrote my definition of independence into something softer, stronger, and more human. Today, I still value my self-reliance, but I carry the wisdom Julia gave me everywhere I go. I know now that asking for help is not failure, but an invitation to connection and growth.

Meeting her in high school changed the trajectory of my life, shaping how I love, work, and show up. Julia taught me that independence and interdependence can coexist, creating a life built on courage and community. I am better because she walked beside me, and I am braver because I no longer walk alone.

This is the quiet, lasting gift of friendship, and it continues to shape the person I am becoming. When I think back to that fiercely independent girl, I smile, grateful she met someone who taught her to reach out, breathe, and trust, knowing that leaning in did not dim her light, but helped it shine wider, warmer, and far beyond what she imagined.

Because Julia believed first, and stayed, patiently, until belief became shared. between us, always, steady, honest, and true.

Photo: Selfie

Julia Xenos and I