Over the past month since starting classes, there have been two weekends that it seems like the majority of campus went home for – Labor Day and Hurricane Florence (a.k.a the five day weekend). However, I wasn’t one of those people and I haven’t been home since I moved in mid August. With that said, it was totally my choice. My parents of course (being the kind people they are) offered time and time again to come pick me up during these special occasions, but I repeatedly told them, “no, I like being here, I don’t want to come home.” That phrase right there says it all for me because I don’t want to go home. I’ve been transitioning into an entirely new lifestyle here and I don’t want that all to come crashing down if I visit home just to leave again. Yes, of course there are many things I miss about home: my bed, my privacy, my job and mainly, my dog. I find myself getting distracted during studying looking at videos of my sweet basset hound looking at me with his droopy eyes and abnormally large ears.
Other than that, I love my life here. I love being able to have the freedom to create my own schedule and foster friendships with like-minded people. I love being able to decide what I want to do and how I want to do it. Getting to experience a taste of true adulthood is something that I had been craving for so long, as I consider myself relatively mature and an “old soul,” if you will. Yes, college is completely overwhelming and the work truly never ends, but it’s also full of so many incredible experiences and avenues that I know I wouldn’t be able to experience back home.
I have said it over and over again to my parents and friends that I truly believe that I am building a life here at VCU. That being said, I’m building the life that I want, not one that anyone else wants for me. My parents have always been super supportive in letting me do whatever I felt fueled my soul, but of course being in both superficial high school and Northern Virginia, sometimes my desires would plateau. Furthermore, I have a feeling that if I do go back home for a weekend, I wouldn’t feel like my best self. Yes, like I said previously, I think parts of visiting home would be great. However, in my mind I can’t progress as a person if I’m at back at where I started – even if it’s just for a couple of days. I also have a feeling that once I go back home, leaving would be just as hard as the first time, and frankly one time was already enough for all the tears my mom shed. A few months ago, weeks seemed to drag and weekends just seemed like a continuation of nothing worthwhile. Flash forward to now, my weeks are busy but enjoyable, and my weekends are full of excitement and new adventures. All in all, I don’t want to go home because I’m too damn excited for what’s in store for me here.