As I finish up my second year here at Michigan State University, I wake up every morning with the thought that I never want to graduate. Sure, that organic chemistry exam might kill you, but after it’s over and the stress-tears have dried, you begin to appreciate more than just your education. This school has given me more than I could have ever imagined. And once I think I can’t get any more out of college, MSU gives me something else that is incredibly valuable.

College is a huge learning curve—socially and educationally. The small town I come from never could have prepared me for the challenges I’ve faced the last two years here.

It’s a dog-eat-dog world.

Not to be cynical or anything, but there are no such things as “friends” in college. At least, not in my major. I’ve learned the hard way that no one shares information, because knowledge is key, and if you have the key, you’re going to do better than someone who doesn’t.

It’s like my sister asking me if her outfit is cute—even if it is, I’m going to tell her it’s ugly in hopes that she will change into something worse. And if it’s not cute, I will tell her it looks great so she goes out in public looking like that. Because somehow it makes me look better. (Just an analogy—I don’t really do this.)

This outlook has put such a damper on my friendships and relationships with my peers. I don’t ask for anyone’s opinions because it forces me to question whether they are telling me the truth, or just using the ruse of reverse psychology. It sounds stupid (and it is) but imagine going through college with this mindset—It’s debilitating.

No one wants you to do better than them.

This is true of any competition, but I didn’t know I was paying $25,000 a year to be in a 4-year competition with 50,000 other college students that are just like me. We are all essentially in the same position, yet we jockey for a fake promotion as if someone that will be making $100,000/year is somehow better than someone who will make $45,000/year. What if that person that makes $100,000 only has that degree because daddy paid for it, while someone making $45,000 truly loves their job? Why is someone’s worth based on their future income?

Post-grad conversations are swarmed with numbers of how much he makes and how much she makes. I hear it already within conversations of undergraduates. My mother taught me to never discuss money with someone other than your accountant. But, college has taught me that money is leverage, and if you have it, you have the upper-hand.

I’m forever grateful and appreciative of these lessons, but this kind of conversation and competition has ruined me. I feel like an imposter in my own major—like I don’t belong here. It has compelled me to believe I’m unqualified to do my own job. And the worst part? I’m paying MSU to be here and make me feel this way.