Dear you, in the midst of a major transition,
There is a space between where you once were and where you are going, an area most would refer to as the journey. Philosophers have created great meaning from the concept, and artists have even written songs romanticizing that period of life. Now, I would bet none of them ever sat sadly in a dorm bed, longing for the life they once knew. As I am sure you have learned, this journey often feels more like a punch to the gut than a song worth singing.
The hard truth about change is that it often carries grief. It is grief over a version of yourself that feels like you will never get back. Grief over the familiarity of the halls you once walked down in a high school that could fit inside one of your college buildings. Grief over the friends that came so naturally, or the home you used to walk into with your mom and dog waiting near the doorway. It is well within your right to feel the full weight of that absence, and to grant yourself the grace to mourn the chapter that has closed.
In the depths of pain, most people don’t desire cheesy quotes about overcoming obstacles with a smile, so instead, I wish to share a definition: “Grief is just love with no place to go” (Jamie Anderson).
These words provide a path out of our sorrow, to give this very love direction. There are aspects of high school you miss deeply because you loved those aspects deeply. I encourage you not to throw your past behind, but rather use those memories as a blueprint. Identify the pieces of high school that made you feel most alive, and try to replicate them in college. If you loved your high school sport, join an intramural team. If you miss community, find a club that gives you a similar sense of community. That love for your past is proof you have the same ability to create deep, lasting meaning in college, too.
One of the simplest, yet most helpful pieces of advice I received during my own “lost” season was to take a moment to enjoy the little things. My dad says gratitude can be found all around, even in something as small as enjoying a cup of coffee. Finding joy in that led me to meet a friend whom I still sit with at Dunkin every Thursday to navigate our ways through college together. As a bonus, I realized the more I looked forward to finding happiness, the less time I had to grieve my past. So I challenge you: find your own “cup of coffee.”
There is no roadmap to college. We are all figuring out our own journeys as we go along. The transition requires patience, just as it did in high school. Take this one day, one class, and one meal at a time. Feel all of the feelings and remind yourself that they are fickle. One day, you may feel like your life finally has direction again, and the next, you may only be searching for the nearest directions home. On the bad days, remind yourself that there are good ones that appear just as easily. If the lighter days start feeling sparse again, circle back to the simple pleasures life offers, celebrate the little victories. In case you haven’t heard it yet today, I am proud of you, and you deserve to be proud of yourself.