How am I here, in my second year of college, celebrating my 16th birthday? Truth said, I don’t really know either. Sometimes, I think all of this is a dream; that the past year of college work was just a crazy dream, and I’d wake up in my house back in Malaysia, greeted by my beloved Malinois, and ready for another regular day. But no. I’m here, living in a dorm on my own in California, thousands of miles away from home, and without my dog.
I don’t think I’m particularly smart or amazing. My education was definitely unique, as I was homeschooled from the age of 10. I learned much at my own pace, which I guess was very fast. I think this was largely contributed to by my love of reading and willingness to read anything. School was a foreign concept for me, and I think I learned most about college and high school through fiction books, which honestly aren’t the best places to get reality from. The most contact I had with people was through competitive swimming and the weekly volunteering I did at a stable, helping disabled children learn how to ride.
Of course flying all the way over to America, on a flight that lasted more than 15 hours to arrive, was scary. I left all my friends, my loves, almost everything I was familiar with, behind. I think I cried on the flight, terrified, and wondering if the choice I made was right. Should I have stayed back? What if I can’t fit in, what if I am rejected when they find out I’m 14? (I was 14 when I arrived and turned 15 during my first semester.)
Thankfully, my parents and brother moved to Arizona, which is only a six-hour drive from where my school is in California, so I don’t feel so alone. Though on sleepless nights, I cry for my family.
I hadn’t initially intended for any of my classmates to find out I was three years younger than them on average unless it was absolutely necessary, but I should have known it would come out eventually. It’s hard to hide your age when you’ll be needing parent signatures until your senior year in college. Some people asked, why didn’t you tell me? But honestly, why would a young girl in college tell everyone that she was basically supposed to be a freshman in high school but ended up here?
The classes weren’t particularly hard for me, but fitting in was, at least a little bit, even if it didn’t show. My age was a very sensitive subject for me, as much as I didn’t want it to be. I was always bursting into tears whenever anyone said oh you’re too young for this (I cannot say that I don’t still feel this way. Though at 16, I’ve gotten much better at holding back tears and mocking myself). It’s a terrible feeling when you don’t know anything because nobody trusts you enough to tell you, or they think you’re too young. Who is anyone to judge if we’re old enough to know anything? Nobody.
To all the young geniuses out there, if you want to go to college early, go. Pursue your love of learning. Don’t let age be a limit. Don’t let your insecurity about your age get to you. Even if you’re physically younger, your mental age is as capable as anyone around you, and you shouldn’t be afraid. Going to college early was the boldest decision I made (and probably one of the best), and it has brought so much excitement into my life; every day is a mystery, and isn’t this wonder what we should live for?