Grace Pappadellis ’29

by Grace Pappadellis ’29 on March 19, 2026

I don’t necessarily endorse the hackneyed phrase: “If he wanted to, he would.” I also don’t see the benefit in gendering such terms, as no person is bound to a certain relationship restrictions. I am a young woman, I want many things, and I do them. If I don’t want something, I won’t give it my energy, unless it is required of me. However, I find it true that the absence of effort will lead to the absence of an ideal or well-rounded relationship.

Thoughtful humans seek companionship in all its forms. When my father shares stories about his friends growing up, I can feel the compassion carefully threaded through his words as memories infiltrate his head. At that juncture in his life, his friends were all that he needed. Friends were the center of his life, providing the reliable laughs, promised mischief, and trusting other halves. The friendships people share reveal their ability to bond with everyone else. 

Romantic relationships are also built on developed, loving friendships. My father and mother have been married for over 30 years, and I believe the success in their marriage emanates from the committed friendship they nurtured during their younger years. Even when they were romantically dating, they spent real time together, traveled, explored, and shared meaningful experiences—in the same way that best friends would. Their relationship and marriage were not successful merely because my father “wanted” to make it work or because my mother recognized that he was displaying effort as the saying seems to imply. Sure, effort is integral to a relationship where two are both seeking the same outcome—marriage, children, commitment—but how is that effort balanced? How is it allocated throughout the relationship? A fulfilling relationship where both parties are happy and continuously satisfied does not depend on one party deciding that they want to be there and acting accordingly. The relationship calls for equilibrium. It calls for a steady, balanced scale.

If I wanted to, I would. Friendships, romantic relationships, and even being a dedicated family member, all warrant the desire to be there. The compassion one feels towards another person only enhances that magnetism, a force that leads people towards each other who are just meant to be there, to connect, and to experience each other. Each day, from the moment I wake up to the moment I end my night, I am making perpetual decisions that lead me closer to an outcome I wish for. My energy and the choices I make based on what my heart sings for linger around the relationships most important to me. I am emboldened by the hobbies that fulfill me, and my personal achievements that build my identity, or my foundation to be a steady, applied member of a relationship. Without any idea of who I am, what I enjoy, or where my values lie, I would be unable to sufficiently dedicate myself to anyone else. It can be a work in progress, a continuous climb towards who I long to be, because no one can ever truly be there at all times. If I start at the grassroots, promise myself to remain authentic and consistent, I’ll understand a great deal about myself and I’ll feel confident that I can show these parts to another person.

There have been junctures in my life where I was unsure of who I was and what outcomes I’d like to strive for. I knew I loved to write, but I never made the time to exercise my creativity. I loved sports, physical activity, and being outside, but I’d make excuses for myself like, “I’m too tired today,” “I am busy with something else,” or “I’ll start tomorrow.” These common phrases do not so much indicate a lack of interest in what I love, but are telling that I hadn’t learned the power of applying myself and my effort, and seeing how those outcomes expand, flourish, and reflect who I want to be in new, profound ways.

It is not always a feasible process in discovering your own potential, and how your potential becomes transferable throughout your relationships. Maybe you can expect a comfortable, healthy space for growth between yourself and another person when you are learning who you are, but finding the people who are willing to stay with you, as staunch supporters of your flexible, fluid identity, is a representation of secure compassion. They are the other side of your scale, your balance, the anchor to your drifting boat.

We need to meet people where they are. It is impossible to bind someone to the notion that they must do something just because they want to. We do things when we realize how important they are to us, which is a concept we can only grasp when we’ve dug deep enough into our core in an attempt to scoop out the answers. Humans are always seeking answers, so eventually, we’ll all be doing what we want because it matters to us and because our passions are guiding us through what is still left undiscovered. We must stop placing trust in cliché phrases and allowing our relationships to be dependent on them. Instead, we can trust that with time, trial and error, and through quiet, thoughtful states, we’ll all find what we deem the most valuable to us. Our cores will breathe with clarity, bursting with light, and we’ll share these passions with each other. Then, after great consideration of what one desires to fulfill in their life, the phrase, “If he wanted to, he would,” could be justified.