After the whirlwind of emotions leading up to this moment, you can’t help but cry. After years of dreaming of leaving home and beginning a new journey, the day was finally here. Your car is packed with dorm materials and your mom is already crying. The only problem is: you’re not excited, and you’re definitely not alone.
As I watched my mom depart in her car back to the place I called home, I realized that I wanted to go back home with her. I wasn’t sure how I ended up at this college I was not proud of or what it had in store for me. I watched my peers bleed colors of the school in their vibrant wardrobe and I felt tears coming down my face. I opened up Instagram to find my classmates from high school getting settled into their dorms at their dream schools when I realized I was not one of them.
I am not sure how I ended up at a school that I despised. I was not trying to be a brat, but I did feel like one. It was difficult watching the snapchats of all my friends enjoying “the best four years of their lives” and not being one of them. I felt envy towards everyone I knew who had picked their first choice college and was having the time of their life.
People began making friends immediately and I felt like I had hit a huge road block. If I hate the college, will I hate the people here? Will I hate my professors? My heart felt as heavy as a mountain where I experienced the biggest existential crises of my life. How could this possibly be the best four years of my life?
Despite it all, I cleared my throat, moved in, and tried to make the best of it. I knew that nothing was permanent and that transferring was possible one day- just not right now. I decided to make the best of the situation by getting involved in rush week and by focusing on my grades. Who knows, maybe I will end up where I’m supposed to be one day.
I’m happy to say that I’m definitely not where I belong. That’s okay, I’m only eighteen and I’m supposed to experience trial and error. I’m glad to say that I’ve met some amazing people and wonderful professors. It definitely isn’t home but I can make it my home for a little while. It’s just a bump on the road until I get where I’m meant to be.
