I sit on the dorm room floor, my face flushed as I hold a ripped rubber-duck squishy in my palm. I feel the exposed memory foam as the faded black Sharpie spelling the word ‘duck’ backward on the bottom of the duck rubs off onto my skin. If faced with the destruction of this knick-knack a year ago, I would be in shambles–but today, I feel content.
When I came to Virginia Tech in August of 2022, my life was changing– and it was changing fast. I had been diagnosed with type one diabetes less than four months earlier, I was leaving home and my small town for the first time, leaving my family and friends I had been with for over twelve years. I was overwhelmed, and I was tired.
Unpacking my bags and finding the little things that reminded me of home, things that felt like a constant to me in a rapidly changing environment, made me feel better. Whether it was the duck my best friend had won for me with tickets at a Dave and Buster’s years ago, an angel my mom had given me to sit on my desk, or a crystal my grandma put in my pocket the day before I left, it reminded me of the support system I had, even if it was miles and miles away from me.
Throughout the first months, I called my friends from home and discussed the separate journeys we were on, and at the same time, I met so many new, wonderful people– something I was scared I wouldn’t be able to do. My friends would wander into my room and pick up the random things around my room as we talked, their favorite often being the squishy duck.
As time passed, the calls between my friends and me from home slowed. I became more involved in campus activities, loved my classes and genuinely felt like I was learning and bettering myself; I started exercising and eating better, hanging out with new people more and even got into a relationship. While I still loved the rainy, cold days I got to spend journaling alone at my desk, I wasn’t in my room as much anymore looking at the things around me wishing that I could go back to how things were, how they had been for eighteen years of my life.
Then, here I am– faced with the demise of my 5-year-old toy duck. As odd as it may sound, the ripped duck made me reflect on how far I had come. Holding the duck’s now two separate parts in my hand, I realized that, while maybe not split into two new beings, I had changed and grown so much from when we first had taken a Sharpie to the bottom of the Dave and Buster’s prize.
While I still may squish the ripped duck or carry my grandma’s crystal in my bookbag each day, I no longer need things to support and ground me. I’m no longer afraid of changing, growing and learning new things about myself–I’m not scared to venture out on my own journey.
My first year at Virginia Tech, my first year alone, has taught me so much about myself and who I want to become. Now when people come into my room and ask what the duck is on my desk, I don’t get sad thinking about where it came from, but instead, I embrace its torn body and cracked beak, telling them where he’s been and how he’s changed.