Oftentimes we’re haunted by our failures. The cycle begins with feeling inadequate, even when we’ve exhausted ourselves with a never-ending list of goals. Yet the true failure is not what we aren’t able to accomplish; it’s failing to notice or celebrate every win that comes our way.

As a freshman, I recall planning my weekends around dining hall hours, which, for an unlimited meal plan, seems rather limiting. Two years and one new food supplier later, Penland Hall is still the only spot that stays open past 9 p.m., and it happens only four nights a week. In that time, Baylor also closed Brooks Great Hall without meaningfully changing other facilities’ hours.

Just hours before the event was a final change: thousands of general admission tickets were voided to accommodate a Baylor-only policy that the university claims had always been in place.

What gives us the authority to decide what is “cringe”? We cannot possibly consider ourselves so important to be the all-knowing determiners of what is the norm. We’ve gotten so wrapped up in our perception of others that it’s warped our sense of self. The reason we joke, “to be cringe is to be free,” is simple — it gives us an excuse to be ourselves in a world that is often far too judgmental.