One of my many naive hopes and dreams for my freshman year of college was to become BFFs with my first roommate. Instead of finding someone to room with by introducing myself to the incoming freshman class Facebook page, I chose to have my roommate randomly assigned. I told myself to go in with no expectations, but, as the move-in date got closer and closer, I couldn’t help but excitedly picture my new roommate and I eating meals together at the cafeteria, attending the welcome week activities, and going to tailgates.
I had never had to share a room back home with any of my siblings, so I knew that it was going to be quite an adjustment for me to live about four feet away from a complete stranger. However, what I was not prepared for was the lack of connection between me and my freshman year roommate. We went to eat dinner once at the cafeteria during move-in week… and that was it. Our initial conversation felt forced and awkward on my part, as all of my get-to-know-you questions were met with short replies; how was your summer, what’s your major, what do you like to do for fun. We did not spend any more time together outside of the confines of our dorm. Throughout the entire school year, we co-existed in near silence, only speaking to each other when we had to (aka the biggest mistake I could make in regards to my living situation).
It was hard for me to grasp my new reality at first. I remember my friends from back home telling me how well they got along with their roommates and the fun adventures they would go on. It sucked that I was stuck with someone who, not only expressed no interest in leaving the dorm unless it was necessary, but also preferred to have her side of the room look like it was inhabited by a messy, twelve-year-old boy complete with open food wrappers under the bed, spilled coffee stains left to dry on the walls, and a gross taco stench that could murder the strongest air fresheners (I once bought one meant for pet odors – spoiler alert it died too). Want to know the best part? The one day out of the entire school year that she finally decided to clean her side of the room was in our last month of living together, the day before the surprise RA room inspections began. An exclusive look at my expression as I walked into my dorm that faithful day is shown below.
The one thing that I could have done to avoid this mess? COMMUNICATED. WITH. MY. ROOMMATE. However, being terrified of confrontation, I spent the entire year avoiding the elephant in the room and instead found solace in the cleaning supply aisle of Target. What I should have done, was addressed the problem when I first noticed that an open bag of Lays chips shoved under her bed was emitting a strange smell. I should have taken the roommate agreement our RA made us write out and sign seriously, adding details like “take out the trash once a week” or “dispose of food containers with a fragrant odor in the trash chute” instead of putting something vague like “respect your own space”. I should have taken the advice my friends would give me when I would complain about my roommate. I could have gone to my RA if the problem had gotten worse, and I could have asked for help on how to fix the problem or transfer to another room. Bottom line: I could have been more proactive in improving my messy roommate situation, instead of complaining to anyone who would give me the time of day. If there’s one thing I had to learn the hard way during my freshman year of college, it’s that the only person standing in the way of solving your own problems is yourself.