“Well, this is it” I thought at 7:30 in the morning after my alarm went off. I got out of bed, looking over the small neighborhood my townhouse resides in. Everything calm, quiet and peaceful, the sun just starting to peek over the trees. I took a deep breath in and it hit me. This was my last first day of school.

For the past 17 years, I have had all different morning routines. From elementary school where I would wake up to clothes picked out by my mother and breakfast waiting for me in the kitchen, to high school where I left the house late every morning, trying to eat breakfast as I walked to my car. These routines have kept me moving from August to June each year, and this semester is my last school routine.

After going through my day of classes, I realized this would be the last time doing ice breakers (thank goodness), name games, and introductions with my peers. The last time of crossing my fingers waiting outside of a classroom to hope that that lucky gesture would conjure up my friends to share the block of time with me. And the last time of searching for room numbers and trying to make it on time.

Part of me felt devastated that Monday morning. In these next few months what I have known my entire life would disappear in front of my eyes. The reassuring thought of returning to campus in the spring or fall was no longer there. I was met by uncertainty and a lack of my comfort zone.

The other part of me saw this as an adventure. The future may be foggy and unknown for now, but that is life. We have no idea what the future holds, let alone an hour from now, so why worry. I believe everyone has a plan laid out for them, and every day is one step forward.

Then there was the part of me that was wondering why I had set my alarm for 7:30 when I didn’t have class until 9:45, but that’s for me to figure out the rest of the semester.

All in all I feel lucky to have spent the past 17 years with such familiarity. Knowing that I would wake up in the morning, go to school during the day, come home and do homework, is not something all kids get to experience. I consider myself lucky to have struggled with my times tables in elementary school, to have stayed up all night powering through an essay in high school, and to have called home on numerous occasions in college crying because I was so stressed out. This trials and tribulations all meant I was working hard and giving myself the best education.

So as the semester continues, I will reflect upon my last first day. Looking back at the preceding years and thanking God that I have been privileged enough to have had these opportunities.