There’s less than one month until move in. So if you’re an upperclassman, you’re probably thinking about that turn down The Avenue and the goosebumps that come along with it, turning 21, celebrating already being 21, eating dining hall cookies, and getting back into the swing of living with your besties. Incoming freshmen have a different train of thought. You’re nervous about moving away from home, apprehensive about community bathrooms, and already missing the comfort of your childhood bedroom. And if you’re anything like me, you’ve already started crying about how much you’re gonna miss your mom. So I’m gonna tell you something I wish someone would’ve told me: it’s okay to cry.
I know I’ve seen enough TV shows and movies to know that when parents drop their kids off at college, there’s a long tight squeeze, a couple tears, and a dramatic head turn over your shoulder as you watch your family drive away. But no one ever looked me in the eye and said, “Hey girlfriend, you’re gonna sob the ugliest Kim Kardashian cries when you go off to college, but you’ll survive.” So here is me figuratively sitting you down, grabbing you by the shoulders, looking you in the eye and telling you: it’s okay to cry!!!
I’m a crier by nature. Pictures set to music, a wedding toast, a birthday card, watching strangers reunite at an airport, the last bite of a good sandwich…they all leave me blotting my eyes and wiping snot in my elbow while simultaneously trying to look cute and graceful. That being said, I knew I would cry when leaving for college but I wasn’t prepared for just how much I was gonna shed.
My mom and I are very close. And without talking (writing? reading? I don’t know the right terminology in this situation) your ear off, I’ll just sum it up by saying: I used to wear her perfume to school, keep a picture of her in my desk in first grade, wear her pajama set when she went out of town, wear “best friend” necklaces in grammar school and so on and so forth. Get it? I’m obsessed with my mom. And not in the stupid, annoying way where I say she’s my best friend when I post a picture of her on Instagram for Mother’s Day. But in the actual, couldn’t imagine learning how to make chocolate chip cookies, properly make a bed, eat ice cream out of the half gallon, or go to Home Goods and renovate an entire room with anybody else.
My whole summer after senior year was spent organizing, shopping and crafting for my dorm room. I was ready for college. The emotional breakdowns were kept to a minimum until late August. The anxiety of how I was going to decorate my room was more consuming than the anxiety about leaving home. That was until move in weekend.
My last night at home, I went up to bed to find a wrapped pandora charm on my pillow. It read: best friends. A more sophisticated version of our matching best friend monkey necklaces I think we bought at Claire’s. A sob-filled hug and a tear-stained pillow later, I was ready for SMC.
My move in weekend was like a trial period. It was fake college. After meeting my roommates, setting up my room, and making the obligatory trip to Target, I got to stay at college and my parents went to our summer cottage, a quick twenty minutes away. Having four older sisters go to SMC, I knew the Thursday drop off at school didn’t really count. I would see my parents again Sunday when they left the cottage and went back to Darien.
But in the meantime, I got to go through freshman orientation and experience college without any of that “oh my God my parents just left, this is the real deal” kind of excited,nervous energy. And I did just that. I ate in the dining hall, went to my first college party, attended mandatory small group meetings, made some new friends, and life was great
Then suddenly it was Sunday, and the Sunday blues hit hard. I think I woke up crying. I met my sister for brunch in the dining hall crying. I drove to the cottage crying. I sat on the pier crying. I followed my mom around the house crying. My uncle tried to lighten the mood and say “Claire you’re gonna love college!” And I cried even harder. I cried through dinner. I cried saying the “real” goodbye. I couldn’t stop crying. It was exhausting.
(I really hope I haven’t scared you out of your mind because this is the part where the story gets better.)
Eventually the tears stopped. Mainly because I was embarrassed to cry in front of my roommates who I had known for less than 72 hours, but still. (PSA: don’t be as embarrassed as I was!! Freshman year roommates are the best and will appreciate you no matter how bizarre you think you are!) Life went on and I adjusted to college. I made friends. I went out. I stayed in. I ate Papa John’s. It got better. I’ll be honest- the first few weeks I didn’t like calling home because hearing my parents’ voices made me sad. But I got used to my new situation and now I probably call home too often. It’s all part of the experience, and I can bet you’ll love it all.
It’s funny looking back on my situation two years ago. How much has changed, how much is the the same, friends I still have that I met that first week, and memories I still hold on to…
If you need my parting wisdom, let it be this: freshman move in day is one of the most exciting, emotional roller coaster rides you’ll ever go on. It’s okay to be nervous, excited, unsure, thrilled, ready, apprehensive, sad, happy, or any combination of these. Just know that college really is one of the best times in your life. So if you don’t love it from the get-go, give it some time. If you’re already sold, it only gets better!
Oh and PS, there still might be a tear in my eye when I say bye to my mom this fall. Old habits die hard.
Xoxo,
Claire
Photos provided by the authors
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