A lot of my free time is spent in a car, and although I chose the commuter lifestyle, it’s not necessarily my favorite thing about my UM experience. When I decided to come to the University of Miami, it was no question that I would commute from my home to school every day. I couldn’t think of a just argument for my parents to spend an extra $16,000 a year for a dorm when I only live 6.5 miles away – and yes, as a commuter those numbers will forever be embedded in my brain. So there I was my first day of college, all bright eyed and bushy tailed, driving to what would become my second home. At first, this didn’t bother me. I enjoyed the fact that I could jump in my car and explore Miami as I pleased, a luxury most resident freshmen don’t have. I loved that I could split my time between my family and friends equally. But most of all, I relished in the fact that I could go home and have a meal prepared by my amazing mom, and not some prepackaged dining hall dinner.
But even with all of these perks, I felt like I was missing something. More and more often, people in my classes would start talking about their dorms, and what floor they lived on, who their roommates’ were and if they knew so-and-so who lived on the 9th floor. It was a conversation I was constantly hearing but could never be a part of because my only “roommate” was my sister and there is only one “floor” to my house. And I realized how important living on campus really was. I was missing the comradery that comes with the freshman dorms. I didn’t have people bopping into my room at two in the morning to tell me about their wild night. I didn’t have classic photo shoots in front of the white walls of the dorm halls. I didn’t become best friends with my roommate or anyone on my floor. They’re small things about college life but they matter.
Eventually I realized that the commuting lifestyle wasn’t as horrible as I had painted it out to be my freshman year. It truly is a luxury to be able to see my family on a daily basis and not have to worry about getting homesick. How bad can commuting really be, after all? I don’t have to worry about flying back home over break. I don’t have to pack and unpack my room every 9 months. I don’t have to leave half my wardrobe in my hometown. And most importantly, I get to explore this beautiful city every day of the year. And who wouldn’t want that? Maybe a little piece of sanity and an hour of my time isn’t that bad of a payment to live here. I guess commuting isn’t so terrible after all.