When I first arrived at Shasta Hall in August of 2019, I had no idea what to expect from the next few years of my life. Waiting in the long line of cars, filled with excited freshmen and worried parents, I felt the weight of every story I’d ever heard about college. My mind spun with images of new friends, romantic relationships, fulfilling classes, my glory days. As excited as I was to open the door to my family’s stuffed-full car, I knew once I did, my life would never be the same.
I chose Chico State University primarily due to its proximity to my hometown, as well as the financial aid offer I was awarded. With a single mother and a single income, I knew my options for a college education were slim. By choosing Chico, I was able to stay close to my family and achieve a degree without the weight of sizable loans once I graduated. I quickly fell in love with the scenery, mesmerized by the hundreds of trees that fill this beautiful campus. The brick buildings, sunny weather, and the constant feeling of being on the edge of something amazing kept me pushing through my first few months of school. I kept reminding myself that this was my chance to make something of myself. Being a first-generation college student, I had to try.
And it was hard – really, really hard.
Despite growing up fairly independent and priding myself on having common sense, being completely on my own for the first time was extremely scary. It was challenging in a way that I never expected. I was surrounded by friends, people I truly loved, yet still felt so lonely. Navigating a heavy class load, new friendships, aspiring romantic connections, parties, and working – it was draining. I soon found myself calling my mom to come pick me up every weekend. I remember people telling me how exciting it was to head off to college, but no one ever warned me about the depression that would come with it.
At the end of my spring break of freshman year, I received an email stating we would not be allowed back on campus due to the rise of COVID-19. A part of me was relieved, having no requirement to head back to Chico, back to the place where everything weighed so heavily on my shoulders. The classes I wasn’t even attending in person, now moved online. And even though I could attend from the comfort of my bedroom, I still couldn’t find it within myself to log on. I felt like a failure. I felt as though I was letting everyone down – my mother, my teachers, my friends, even myself.
Through the time I spent at home, eventually, I found myself feeling like a freshman again, excited for what the future held in store, once we were allowed to be social again. I couldn’t wait to be back in my college town. I was dedicated to making it work for me.
Well, it wasn’t that simple. Life is hard. Life sucks sometimes. And sometimes, it sucks for a while. This cycle of being hopeful, thinking I’m healing, and then falling flat due to my mental health continued for years. It continued for the majority of my college career, actually. What was supposed to be a new beginning, a chance for me to succeed, get out of my hometown, and become someone new, became what felt at the time like a huge burden. I felt so lost – inside my mind and in the world.
I am proud to report to all of you reading this that I will be graduating in May 2024 after completing five years at Chico State. I could sit here and throw myself a pity party, and feel bad for myself about taking an extra year to complete my degree, but why? Why diminish my own success just because of what I thought my life was going to be? The truth is, a degree is still a degree, even if it takes you years to get it. It doesn’t matter whether you’re 23 when you graduate college, or 45; your path is your path.
I truly believe the greatest lesson I’ve learned at Chico State is to be gentle with yourself. As much as you may think who you hang out with, who you date, who you party with, or what field you choose to study matters, I’m here to tell you – it really doesn’t.
What truly matters is achieving your goals; whatever those goals may be. Each year of my college career, I set out with goals to pass all my classes and live the fun “college experience” everyone is always talking about. Yet, each year ended with me just happy I lived through it.
Whether you’re a freshman in college, a senior, or even in your fifth year, you can do this. And if you’re really struggling, there are resources to help you. I wouldn’t have made it through this journey if I didn’t have the support system I did.
Most importantly, be there for yourself. Know when you can try harder and when to be gentle with yourself. So much of my time was wasted on judging my own journey and my own struggles. Follow your path and trust in your ability to overcome.
Because, at the end of your journey, walking across that stage at commencement, it won’t matter how long it took you, or how many classes you failed along the way. What will matter, is the fact that you’re there and you did it.
