When you tell people you’ve decided to go to school more than 10 hours away from home, in a city you’ve never visited, their first questions are usually “are you sure?” and “are you scared?”
When you come back for breaks, they ask you how school is going, if you’re sure you’re comfortable, and if you’re finally ready to come home.
I know it comes from a place of concern, but I never fully understood these questions; they felt undermining. Sometimes, I let them get to me and question my choices: Was I actually sure? I was itching for these new experiences, and home would still be there when I returned, but was I biting off more than I could chew?
Don’t get me wrong, deciding to pack up and go to college 13 hours away was the best decision I’ve ever made. But sometimes it feels like I wasn’t fully prepared for everything. Of course, it’s not a new thing to move away for school; we make up almost half of the student demographic.
But it’s almost like the things I prepared to feel weren’t actually big deals, and I was blindsided by things I wasn’t cautioned about.
Coming from a somewhat small town in Western Ohio, where the defining characteristics are cornfields and fast-food places, I expected that my transition to a city like Boston would be jarring. At least that’s how everyone described it in terms of getting used to the noise, people, and the activity. In reality, it’s one of the most comfortable experiences I’ve ever had.
(The closest comparable cities at home are an hour to two hours away, so it wasn’t like we could make day trips and regularly be around that environment.)
My first visit to Boston University was during the Mosaic Community Welcome in mid-April 2024. Despite it being the rainiest weekend ever, I fell in love with BU. I saw the potential future I could have there, and that was enough to assuage any doubts.
I genuinely love the liveliness of campus and Boston. It strikes the perfect balance between being close enough to opportunities and things to do—whether it’s a walk or a T ride—and far enough away that the campus can be calm and quiet. It’s comfortable.
I find icebreaker questions where everyone says where they’re from to be one of the most exciting parts of a new semester. I get to hear about how far everyone has come to be here and how different those places are, whether it be from across the country or across the ocean. I found that being an out-of-state student at BU is one of the most normal things ever.
I’m the only person I know of from my own graduating year, as well as a few before, to come to BU from my hometown. The knowledge that I would be alone was the thing I anticipated most. I was going to be able to exist and grow in a place where no one knew me or had preconceived notions about how I should act.
I embraced everything everyone had warned me about, but when I returned home for Thanksgiving for the first time in three months, I wasn’t prepared for what I hadn’t thought of.
During my first trip back home, it felt like I had easily regressed to my high school drama and habits.
At my high school, it felt like you weren’t allowed to change, and I wasn’t prepared for how hard it would be to shake being back in the same town. These people have seen all the awkward phases and, in my case, know more about me than I would like. They have an idea of me backed up by years of interactions that are hard to break.
When I went home, it literally felt like the last three months in Boston hadn’t happened. And if I didn’t have the homework to prove it, I don’t think I could’ve been sure that they had. It felt like all the growth I had from the past few months was simply out the plane window. It was weird to think that I had a whole separate life and priorities on the East Coast, with a second set of people who met and knew me there.
It felt like a one-way out of sight, out of mind. I could bring and make sense of the hometown memories to Boston, but I couldn’t bring Boston to the Midwest.
I also wasn’t prepared for how discouraged it would make me feel, as if all this time away did nothing for me. I know it did, but suddenly, I found myself laughing at the same unfunny jokes from school years prior or being self-conscious in ways I was proud to be rid of at school.
Winter break was a little bit better in the beginning. But by the end of the month, I was counting down the days to my return. Spring break was the easiest; I knew I only had a week, so I was focused on how I was just back from school, not moving home.
Of course, I miss home with my family and friends, but in comparison to who I am now, I don’t miss who I was. I know this feeling will get better the more time I spend in Boston and the more I establish my life here. It’ll be little by little, but it’s also something I have to confront myself with.
I didn’t find many people who openly shared or warned about this feeling, but everyone experiences and processes being an out-of-state student differently.
If my experience can help you make better sense of your own, know we are in this together!
Want to keep up with HCBU? Make sure to like us on Facebook, follow us on Instagram, check out our Pinterest board, watch us on TikTok, and read our latest Tweets!