One of the hardest things to adapt to is the transition from college to home. Coming in as a freshman is hard. Sometimes you become home sick and miss the comfort of your own bed. But those are small features in comparison to my hardship. I grew up in a relatively strict household. Cleaning on a regular basis became a necessity, eating outside of the kitchen parameter is disproved, and having the door locked is a crime. These are common sense things that everyone in the house knows. Then there are the extremes. For example, every night the kitchen is supposed to be spot clean for the morning. Meaning the dishes are cleaned and put up, the floor is swept, and the table and counters are wiped off. But, on rare occasions, I might forget to wash a spoon. Now, the average person would consider this mishap a minor occurrence seeing that it is ONLY a spoon. In my household that spoon turns into a bomb. There is only a matter of seconds I have before that spoon turns into my worst nightmare. All it takes is for my mom to come downstairs and see a dirty spoon in the sink and suddenly Obama sends his troops into my household for intervention. Now imagine the same sets of rules, coming back from college…
While at school, I do as I please. Meaning if I’m tired that spoon will sit on my counter until I feel it is necessary to move, usually never. My door stays closed, and I clean often but at my own leisure. Going home becomes an adjustment. I travel back to reality so accustomed to free will and choice. However, this is not even the worst part. What really cripples me is my sense of time at school and at home. During the semester on weekdays, I might go to bed before 1:00 am once a week. Staying up late is a part of my lifestyle in college. I procrastinate on my work till about 9pm, then I stress and crank out work till I give up around one or two in the morning. That is only my schedule for weekdays. On any given night during the weekend, I might not make it back to my room until three or four in the morning. Quite frankly, I might not make it home. I could go get some food, chill with some friends, you just never know. At school, I don’t feel inclined to make it home at any given time because I have no rules restricting me.
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At home, the above paragraph does not exist. There is no such thing as “not making it home.” Either I’m home by a reasonable time, reasonable being when my mom says come home, or I’m not leaving the house. As you probably can guess, this is a frustrating transition. Going from no control to full control is hard on anybody, and I take it the worst. It is an adjustment that must be made but does not discount the difficulty that comes with adapting. I’ve learned the best way to cope with such change, accepting defeat. You can try and talk to your parents and explain to them your perspective, but at the end of the day it is their roof you’re living under. That being said, there’s nothing you can do. So what do you do? You count down the days you have to go back.
