I used to think senior year would be perfect. The light at the end of the tunnel after years of late nights, exams, and trying to figure it all out. But instead of coasting through my final year, I’ve spent most of it sick, stressed, and questioning how much one quarter can possibly throw at me.
I walked into this year with the highest expectations. Living oceanside with my best friends, watching pink sunsets, and falling asleep to the sound of waves, every day. I thought this was going to be the best chapter of college, filled with spontaneous nights, big career moves, and memories I would replay forever. I wanted my senior year to feel like the reward for everything I’d survived up to this point.
But life, as it turns out, didn’t care about my Pinterest-board version of reality.
On my last-ever first day of school, my childhood dog died. There’s no way to prepare for that kind of heartbreak, especially when you’re thousands of miles from home. Instead of taking my classic first-day picture or celebrating a fresh start, I was curled up in bed, crying into my pillow and scrolling through old photos. It was hard not to be home with my family to say goodbye, but after 17 years, I know it was her time.
I tried to stay optimistic. I told myself, “It can only go up from here.” Spoiler: it didn’t.
By week two, I felt a tickle in my throat. I hoped it was nothing. I convinced myself it was dehydration or dry mouth. The next day, I woke up in the middle of the night to a pain in my throat so bad there could only be one explanation. A quick trip to urgent care confirmed it: strep throat. Annoying, but manageable. A week of antibiotics and I’d be fine… right?
Wrong.
Ten days later, I wasn’t better. Honestly, I was worse. The pain lingered, the fatigue deepened, and I could barely talk. Another doctor visit, another round of antibiotics, another failed recovery. By Halloween weekend, everyone was heading to USC for one last college Halloweekend, and I was determined not to miss out. I decided drive my own car, take my medicine, and power through.
I got halfway to LA when I started to panic. I couldn’t breathe through my mouth with my swollen tonsils, and my nose was completely clogged. Swallowing was nearly impossible.
I decided I needed to go to the emergency room. I pulled off the highway and took myself to the nearest ER in Calabasas alone, on Halloween. Quite the sequence of events.
That’s when I realized I had mono, and that all those antibiotics I’d been put on couldn’t fix anything.
I drove back to IV from the ER, sobbing the whole way. Out of pain, frustration, and the sadness of how long I’d been sick and how much had already been taken away from my year. More than anything, I wanted to go home. But when home is across the country, it’s not that easy to just pack up and leave.
I spent the rest of Halloweekend horizontal alone in bed, eating ice cream, and telling myself I would get through it.
If mono wasn’t hard enough on its own, the struggle of juggling this debilitating sickness, classes, and job applications left me severely behind for weeks. Having a job lined up for post-grad feels like a ticking clock constantly in the back of my mind, and every day I’m not working toward that goal feels like time slipping away. Between missed lectures, unanswered emails, and half-finished cover letters, I’ve felt this constant pressure to “catch up” while my body is begging me to slow down.
This quarter has been a reality check. It has been a reminder that college isn’t all butterflies and rainbows or the highlight reel people post online. It’s messy, exhausting, and sometimes it just plain sucks. But maybe that’s part of the point. Maybe senior year isn’t about having everything figured out; maybe it’s about learning to survive the chaos.
As the quarter winds down, I’m finally starting to breathe again—literally and metaphorically. I’m learning to celebrate progress, not perfection. To find comfort in quiet nights with friends instead of chasing the “best night ever.” And to trust that even the hardest seasons can teach you something.
I’m looking forward to the rest of the year and all the memories I’m going to make. It might not all be perfect, but it’ll be real. And maybe that’s enough.