Well, as most people will tell you, there is such a thing as one “defining moment,” perhaps with the exception of the whole Steve Bartman incident or finally resolving the Lennon vs. McCartney debate (the answer is Steve Best).

My first column this year recounted my orientation week at the University, which could be defined by a collection of panicked calls to my parents begging them to bring me back to Chicago. They refused. With no other option, I forced myself to make the most of the Allen Hall orientation. Taking that first step out of my comfort zone taught me that it’s those kinds of hurdles that are often necessary.

Had I convinced my parents to take me home, I would never have met some of my best friends in school. Friends who I would stay up with until 3 in the morning on school nights talking about nothing. Friends who introduced me to Gerba dancing or Malaysian Rendang.

A lot of my greatest moments required an equal amount of naivety, bravery and stupidity. I missed a quiz worth 5 percent of my grade to see Obama speak in Grant Park. I moved to one of the dodgiest neighborhoods in London this past summer without knowing a single soul in that city so I could have the chance to work at the U.S. Embassy.

Other moments required a lot of hard work — completing my senior thesis and running a 25K last May, despite barely being able to accomplish a mile without heavy panting in high school.

All of these moments required a certain amount of unease, which is why if there’s any lesson I can pass down to other students, do what makes you feel slightly uncomfortable. Slightly stupid. Slightly naive. You’re still young enough where it’s acceptable — it will take you a long way.

Rebecca is a LAS graduate.