I’ve always believed UCSB has one of the strongest “images” of any university. Just close your eyes and think about the school. Sunshine, surfboards, jeans and flip-flops, and day parties overlooking the Pacific probably come to mind.
Those things are strikingly symbolic of UCSB, sure, but so are the smaller, less Instagram-worthy moments, like spending eight hours buried in textbooks at Davidson Library on a Saturday, grabbing a burrito from Freebirds on your way home, and collapsing into bed by 10 p.m., or walking quickly past the surf club booth during recruitment week, not because you’re busy, but because the idea of sharks makes you want to stay on land forever.
When I first came to UCSB as a freshman, I thought being a student here meant embodying the stereotype. However, I was juggling demanding chemistry and math courses that consumed hours of daily studying, and I was terrified of the ocean.
My beach exposure was limited to lying on a towel and reading a book, not paddling into waves with a surfboard tucked under my arm.
Still, I convinced myself I needed to change. To fit in, I thought I had to study less, party more, bike everywhere, and slip on the quintessential jeans and flip-flops uniform.
Trust me, I’ve always been the first to recommend trying new things, but this wasn’t about curiosity; it was about pressure. I believed that if I didn’t match the “UCSB vibe,” I would miss out on the very experience I came here for.
The first few weeks of my freshman year were marked by that uneasy feeling of being out of place. Growing up in landlocked Texas didn’t help because my background felt incompatible with UCSB’s surf-town culture. The upperclassmen I looked up to gave off an effortlessly beachy, laid-back vibe, which couldn’t have been further from how I saw myself.
But my perspective shifted once I began focusing on things that truly mattered to me. I joined the cheer team and started writing articles for Her Campus. I cheered during high school, and writing has always been a passion of mine, so both clubs felt like home.
Getting involved in those activities was natural, and for the first time, I felt like I was carving out a place for myself on campus.
Even then, my sense of belonging wasn’t perfect. My schedule was packed, and I often missed campus events or weekend socials because of practices, games, or deadlines.
At times, it felt like I wasn’t squeezing every drop out of the UCSB experience. But gradually, I realized that those moments of doubt were rooted in the same false idea I had carried since move-in: that there’s one single, correct way to be a UCSB student.
The truth is, UCSB is many different things. Its size, diversity, and countless opportunities make it impossible to fit everyone into one stereotype.
For every surfer catching waves at sunrise, there’s a student coding late into the night. For every party on Del Playa, there’s a quiet movie marathon in the dorms.
Belonging here doesn’t come from checking off boxes on an imagined list, but it does come from showing up authentically and choosing the path that makes sense for you.
Looking back, I wish I’d permitted myself to embrace the things I genuinely cared about earlier, rather than chasing a version of UCSB that wasn’t mine to begin with.
What I’ve learned is that belonging is not about blending in; it’s about standing out in ways that are true to who you are. And that, more than the sunshine or surfboards or any stereotype, is what makes UCSB such a remarkable place.