Going into college, I had never really been alone before. Sure, I’d been in situations by myself, for example I have already worked my first job, took classes that didn’t have friends in them and driven myself to hour-away dance competitions. That being said, all of my “solo” experiences never really were done without the guidance, recommendations or the support from my people at home.
Coming to the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign from a suburb of Chicago, I knew I would have some similar ways of life. With some friends of mine from high school just minutes away, my older brother a few blocks and my family a couple hours drive–well, I didn’t think much would feel different. However, I quickly realized that just because some things were familiar to me didn’t mean I wasn’t living a completely different life than the one I knew just weeks before.
Barely three weeks in, I was thrown head-first into classes, sorority rush, going out and making new friends. With hundreds of new faces, conversations, places and activities to try, I was getting little-to-no time to truly think about my new life. As the beginning-of-the-year excitement settled and time went on, I reflected on how different life felt from the one I used to know. Sure, going out and getting to know new people was fun, but wow was I tired… and this room looks pretty small… and the food is getting old… and boy, could I use a hug from my mom.
About halfway through the first semester of freshman year it dawned on me that I was truly on my own. Even though I had family at my fingertips and new friends scattered throughout my dorm, there was no strict routine, no annoyingly protective mother and the comfort of laying on my living room couch after a long day of school and dance did not exist anymore. After battling through a day-long emotional rollercoaster, it was a cross between homesick and disoriented. I realized that this feeling was the exact sign I needed to let go of the past and begin building my future.
I started taking advantage of even the most mundane parts of my early college days. I began to notice how inspiring small moments could be for student life on campus: from walking to class, embracing large lectures, studying in new buildings and even hanging around my sorority house. Not only was I able to build my confidence in my livelihood and habits, but I could embrace moments that I had never even known were possible. All of the day-to-day activities really started to create a sense of purpose and solitude that I struggled to find at the start.
Before I knew it, I couldn’t even remember how I had a hard time with navigating independence. My small dorm room had become my sanctuary, unfamiliar faces had become family, my “new experiences” had become “normal” and the end-of-the-year countdown became increasingly dreadful to think about. But, most importantly, I had started to see who I was, what I needed to do and how I embraced independence. In doing so, I had created a beautiful beginning to my years in college, a path that I was now looking forward to going down on my own.
