“Don’t you want the real college experience?”

“How are you ever going to learn to do things yourself?”

“Maybe you should transfer after two years.”

I’ve heard these statements over and over again since I decided to go to college in the state I grew up in. Adults would ask me and my friends where we were going to school. My friends would tell them that are going to a highly-recognized school like Brown University or Dartmouth College. When my friends listed their new schools, adults would smile and congratulate them. When I told people I would be going to Rhode Island College, they scrunched up their noses. They wondered if I was poor, or if I had done badly in high school. With a hand on my shoulder, sympathetically, they’d all ask the same thing… “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I’d tell them firmly with a smile. “I’m positive.”

I was never the girl who had my heart set on a college. I had no baby pictures of me in University of Alabama onesies. My mom and my dad and their parents before them hadn’t attended Harvard. I hadn’t planned with my five closest best friends to all apply to the University of Miami. When I started applying to colleges, I had to research them a lot. One wasn’t picked out for me by a legacy.

Very quickly, the price tags of these colleges began to stand out to me. Was I ready to spend 50,000 dollars a year to go to school to become a teacher? What was it that would draw me to a particular school one hundred miles away, when I had a perfectly good college right down the street?

I wasn’t a party animal-- the parties at school didn’t matter much to me.

I didn’t want to be a lawyer-- having an overly prestigious college wasn’t at the top of my check list.

When I got out of school, I’d be making roughly 45,000 dollars a year-- I didn’t want student loans hanging over my head.

So automatically, the super expensive schools were out.

I wasn’t sick of my family yet, either, so I decided ultimately, I could save some money by living at home.

I began looking at the colleges in-state, and I never once felt bad about it.

My friends are going to really great schools that they’re super excited for. I’m so excited for them! For my friends, the dreamed-about ‘college experience’ matters. They want a change of scenery, and they want to meet new people. I completely understand that, and that’s great for them!

But I’m fine here. I have my old friends, and I’m already meeting new people. My first semester at college hasn’t even started and I’ve met some great friends. I don’t feel shorted of a “college experience.” I’m going to college, and whatever my experience will be, I’m ready for it.

When I graduate debt free with a teaching degree, I don’t think I’ll worry too much about not going to parties. I won’t have missed the dorm rooms. I will have enjoyed home cooked meals instead of cafeteria food.

I’m excited for all of those who feel they are getting the fresh start they feel they’ll need. Maybe four years from now, I’ll want to move somewhere different and get a change of scenery there. However, I’m just not there yet. I’m here because I want to be, not because I have to be! I’m happy here, so everyone can stop feeling bad for me when I tell them I’m going to college in state.