It really is brutal out here!
Over the past six weeks of my freshman year, the hype of college has worn out and I’m to see how my expectations of college hold up.
I knew my situation wasn’t going to be similar to most first-years before I started college. I am a commuter and was aware that it was going to be difficult to find a community on campus. Because I am not living in the on-campus dorms and leave for home during the day, I can not build friendships and connect with students every day. I don’t go to the dining halls to eat with people who would’ve lived on my floor. I didn’t anticipate how much of a struggle it would be. Sometimes I had feelings of uneasiness because I wasn’t doing the whole college experience “correctly” — whatever that means.
It wasn’t until then that I realized that I felt pressure to go to countless parties, to join a sorority, and to constantly be out doing something. That is what the college experience is. It’s what we’ve been told through the countless chick flicks and rom-coms we all grew up watching.
Recently, I met up with a friend who was also a commuter. She had a rough time adjusting because she felt like she had no one to hang out with or talk to on campus. “I hate it every time I’m here,” she lamented as we were painting in Aldridge Park. I’ve also shared the somewhat lonely feeling of being at UCI. Even though I have people to walk and sit with in lecture, our interactions don’t really extend outside of the classroom. Don’t get me wrong, they are all-around great people, but it’s hard to grow these friendships beyond the classroom.
Some people genuinely thrive off of attending parties or joining a sorority, and I hope they are living their best life. However, I’m not that kind of person, and that’s okay. I don’t mind the occasional party, but I typically prefer smaller get-togethers. Sometimes, I don’t want to do anything. My social battery is occasionally low and I take longer to “charge” than others. At first, I felt ashamed or annoyed that I was like this. I thought I had to get out there and do something, even though deep down I knew I wouldn’t enjoy it. So why was I pressuring myself to say yes to an event, even though I knew I would be miserable? It’s because I felt like if anyone knew I didn’t have weekend plans and decided to be by myself for days, then they would view me as odd or weird.
Realizing that no one actually cares about what I do was such a high relief, as I no longer commit to plans that make me unhappy. I’m still working on being fully comfortable with myself, but like anything else in life, I’m taking baby steps.
Even with the pitfalls of beginning college as a commuter, I believe I’ve handled everything pretty well. During the very first weeks of school, where everyone was eager to meet new people, I found myself reaching out and introducing myself to everyone. That is how I met others in my classes who share a love for complaining about midterms and grades. My progress was shot down after seeing everyone on social media. The countless Instagram stories and posts about the many parties people are attending. Like I mentioned earlier, I don’t live for college parties. They aren’t my thing. However, the fear of missing out still weaseled its way in, and I noticed that I felt this way every time I checked Instagram.
I am not going to be a boomer and say that all social media is terrible. Social media can be a positive thing as it spreads awareness of issues worldwide, and is a great way to document memories with loved ones. On the contrary, it can also create feelings of insecurity; not just about how exciting one’s life is, but rather about one’s appearances and social status. Everyone appears to be so beautiful — skinny in all the right places with flawless skin and a “perfect” button nose. Everyone seems to have it all from luxury bags to fancy vacations. I realized that I’ve been comparing myself to these people who only show a fraction of their life. I don’t know their entire story and yet, I’m quick to accept that they live a seemingly perfect one. That is why I tread lightly whenever I open up Instagram. What is the point of spending so much time on the app if it made me feel like I was living life “incorrectly”?
Now I merely remind myself that there is more than what meets the eye. I gradually let go of people’s judgments, if they even had one of me in the first place, and do whatever I want. It has been a struggle, but it’s a matter of working through it all one day at a time.