When I was younger, I was convinced that leaving my hometown for college was the only future for myself. I was going to ‘blow this town’ – I could see it, and I could not wait to go through with it. As I got older and watched more people from my school go off to college, and subsequently return to attend the University of Utah, I became even more determined not follow the path. I knew that I wanted to leave, and stay gone, for as long as possible. My junior year of high school, as I was applying for colleges, I hesitated to even send in an application to my hometown University. But I did, even though I applied to almost 10 more out of state schools. However, I was never in love with anywhere that admitted me, or even anywhere I applied. All I really cared about was being out of my home town, and in a big(ger) city. So when Emerson College admitted me, I made my choice, and ended up putting in my acceptance.
I attended Emerson for a year and a half, which essentially translates to 3 semesters. I had a lot of ups and downs there – I experienced some of the saddest months of my life there, But despite that, I met friends that I know I will have for life, and I changed in innumerable ways. I don’t regret attending Emerson College in the slightest. I am so grateful for the things that it showed me, the ways that it changed me, and the person I became through the school. But when it comes down to it, Emerson was not the right fit for me. And, through almost a full year of debate and internal strife, I eventually decided to transfer back to the University of Utah.
I know, I know. 15 year old me is absolutely rolling in pubescent fury. I won’t lie – when I wasn’t immediately in love with Emerson, I was a little disappointed: in myself, in the school, in my friends, in basically everything. But I stuck it out, and I hoped that I was just homesick. My high school sweetheart was back home, after all – it was only natural that I wanted to be home with my friends and my boyfriend and my family. But that wasn’t it. I was unhappy at Emerson, and once I realized that, I started looking into other schools. My first thought was to find a different school to go to that still wasn’t back in Utah. But I truly didn’t know what I wanted to end up doing. I hadn’t been happy with Emerson as a school, but I hadn’t been happy with my major, either. So my decision to come home was two fold – to get away from Emerson and to decide what it was I wanted to end up doing.
It’s only been a couple of weeks that I’ve been in school here at the University of Utah, so obviously I am not the poster child of what is true about transferring back home. For all any of us know, in a month I could be just as miserable as I was. But from what I have felt and experienced this past month of being home, I have been leaps and bounds happier than I ever was at Emerson. I feel more free, like I have more options, and like the future has a lot to offer me. Obviously it’s not like everything has been magically fixed – I still don’t really know what I want to end up doing, and I’m not automatically the happiest person in the world – I have a lot of things I need to work on. But I think being home, and having the freedom that being home brings me (monetarily, and in living in a comfortable space), is an important step towards getting better in an impactful way.
Transferring home also left me with more appreciation for all of the people that I watched come and go just like I did. What I then saw as people who “couldn’t make it” in ‘the big city,’ I now see as young people who tried something, saw that it didn’t work, and decided to try something else. I see the value in that now, the value in recognizing when something isn’t working for you, even when you really, really want it to. So, even though I never really spoke it out loud, I want to publicly apologize for the dismissive thoughts I had of everyone who returned home after trying school somewhere out of state. And for everyone who thinks the way that I used to – I am fine!! I recognize that it can look like I just gave up, or couldn’t parse it out there, or just failed and wanted to come home to my boyfriend. And that may be true. But the fact is that I am happier now than I was, and that I am taking steps to making my life the best that it can be. If in 20 years I regret all of this, so be it! But for now, I’m trying to be happy, and I’m going to do what I know makes me happy, and try things out, and fail, and try other things. Not that you care (because you shouldn’t), but that’s my game plan. And my first step was transferring home. And I’m okay!