I remember driving to college, following my mom. My life was packed up in our cars. My stomach was in knots; I had no idea what to expect. Once we arrived, I parked my car and squeezed into my mom’s. We waited in a line of cars. When we finally reached the front, we were told to pop the trunk. A group of people quickly came and unloaded all my belongings. I got my key and found my room. I felt stressed as I looked at all of my belongings sitting in a giant pile outside my door. I had some other people’s items, so I was hoping I had all of mine. I was impatiently waiting for my mom to park the car because I had no idea how to tackle this mountain of stuff. The hallway was getting pretty crowded, so I started to move my belongings into my room. My mom arrived, and we divided and conquered. I started putting my clothes away, and she started putting things away in my organizers. Everything was so bare and white. I didn’t think it would ever feel like home.
Little by little, things started to come together. On move-in day, I put up a pinboard and a whiteboard. I set up pictures of my friends and me. When my roommate arrived, she brought the rug. My roommate, my mom, and I turned into a moving crew. We moved and lifted the furniture, trying to get this giant rug to fit right in our room. I remember crawling under my bed and behind my desk and hoping my mom didn’t drop anything on my fingers as I tried to smooth the rug out. Most of my things were moved in on the first day, but it was weird to fathom that this was my new living space.
It took me two months to finish setting up my dorm. I scoured Pinterest long before moving in; I had a specific image in my head. I procrastinated decorating because what if I didn’t like what I bought? What if the pictures didn’t match, didn’t look proportional, or the frames didn’t stay on my wall? It took a while, but I finally dedicated part of a Saturday to curating my wall. I felt so relieved once I finished it. Through the posters and frames I hung up, I felt as if some of my personality was also in the room.
I love every part of this room that once felt so unfamiliar. I love opening the blinds and letting the light shine in. I love being able to see a picture of my hometown friends every time I pick out clothes. I love all my throw pillows. I love the ottoman that I trip over and almost break an ankle on when climbing into bed. I love nighttime, when the glow from my candle warmer and desk lamp illuminates my room. I had a lot of mixed emotions coming to college. I was worried that I would never feel settled in. It took some time, but now I can see that a room that once felt foreign feels like a home away from home.