I survived my first break. I know that sounds dramatic, but it’s true. I came back to my dorm Tuesday evening sad to leave my mom yet again. Yet, I was also so relieved to be back in my own personal space and get back to the life I’ve been creating for myself. Going home for the first time freshman year is a weird experience and I believe no one will understand until they experience it for themselves. Going into it, I knew there would be ups and downs. However, having never experienced a college break before, I didn’t know what to expect or how I would handle the ups and downs.
To be quite frank, my break wasn’t really a break. I won’t go into detail, but the truth is: I did too much. If I’m being honest, I was scared to go home. I was scared my friends at college would forget about me. I was scared my friends at home wouldn’t want to hang out with me. I was scared I would be too different from when I left, yet I was scared everyone I left behind would be all too much the same. I was scared I would get home and not want to leave, and I was scared I would get home and want to leave right away. I truly had no idea what to expect about the trip and even furthermore, myself. I am a completely different person today than I was when I left for college, and I’m so grateful for that. I wanted to go to college so I could grow and discover new things about myself, but the thought that my hometown, both the place and the people, may not be ready to accept the new person I am made me very hesitant. So, to distract my mind, I filled my time with so many things that I wouldn’t have time to think.
Well, this backfired because you can’t avoid your thoughts. Every situation I was in, I found myself reading into who I was now, and if the people surrounding me had changed or even moved on. The things I had blocked into my schedule to distract me actually caused me to think deeper about myself and my relation to the place I left only two months ago.
In some aspects, I was the same person to those I left behind. For example, I saw some of my friends before they left for their high school homecoming dance. Even now, they were asking me to do their hair, help them choose between two dresses, and put their jewelry on for them. In other senses, I was different. Physically, I had gotten my nose pierced, my style was different, and I wear my hair in a side part now. On a deeper level, I was still included in all the conversations, but I was asked more for advice or knowledge rather than to be part of the jokes that had formed while I was gone. At my house, my younger sister has taken over my upstairs bathroom, and in doing so, has moved all her things onto the shelf where my things used to go. In a way, I have been erased from everyday life for my family and friends, but in another sense, they have been removed from mine too.
The one thing that meant the most to me while visiting home, and did not change, was the smells. I got in my car and remembered how much I missed the smell of her leather seats. I walked in my grandma’s house and felt like I was being hugged by the smell of her perfume and whatever meal they had the night before. I walked into my own home and could smell our freshly vacuumed carpets and the solid wood of our floors, walls, and trims. Even when I was dreading what may or may not be waiting for me at home, the smells of all the familiar places was the best but most unexpected comfort for me.
So, yes, I did survive my first break. It was just as emotional, fun, and challenging as I envisioned it would be. I’m grateful for all those feelings because they’re proof I am growing, changing, and coming closer to know who I’m meant to become. There’s parts of me, physically, emotionally, and metaphorically, that went with me to college and won’t ever return home. However, there’s some parts of me that went away to college and waited to go home. That’s the beauty of change: somehow, in the end, it always feels right.