I’ve never enjoyed the cold weather and I probably never will. You can go through my old childhood photos and see me looking miserable in my neon purple snowsuit while building a snowman. However, over the years, I’ve come to love a particular cold weather month: November.
I love the clichés of fall, like going to the pumpkin patch and drinking warm apple cider afterward with rosy cheeks. Not to mention that the foliage in Boston is amazing. But while I’ve always loved fall, I still didn’t love November. At all.
Or, at least I thought I didn’t until I moved to Boston.
It’s no secret to anyone who knows me that October is my least favorite month. It starts getting darker earlier and the weather is unpredictable.
It was also the hardest month when it came to getting adjusted to college. During my freshman year, I remember that I couldn’t wait for October to be over. But I also remember being terrified that November would be worse than October.
At first, the idea of Thanksgiving break was the one thing pushing me through, but I realized that nothing was going to get better if I didn’t accept my new life. Change is going to happen whether I like it or not, so I might as well get on board.
November was the month when things truly began to turn around for me. I laughed, I loved, I lived, and, most importantly, I learned. I began to appreciate change instead of fearing it.
To me, November isn’t just another month. it represents the light at the end of the tunnel and serves as a reminder that better days will come.
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