It’s September 2022, and the summer’s remains are tugging me back home. Yet I stand on my front porch with suitcases and blue IKEA bags stuffed with my new life. I should be excited, but I am fearful and aching. I already miss the life I’m standing in. It’s been the best summer of my life, filled with lawn-side concerts, hiking trips, parties, and my best friends. It was almost as if I knew the moments were so precious and preservable even while I was living in them.
I felt entirely different from everyone around me. I didn’t long to be a new person, to experience new places, or meet new people. Instead, I missed what my life had been–how it had always been. I did not want to change. But there I was, with friends moving away from the island for good and being the last of my group to leave for college.
When I arrived on campus, I felt an instant sense of relief when my roommates ended up being completely normal—they seemed like people who could eventually become my friends. I am happy to report that I was beyond correct, they’re some of my favorite people. Yet that relief wasn’t enough to leave me fulfilled.
I hated the cold, the city, the big lecture halls, the fact that I signed up for Econ 200, and the lack of a structured community. Despite having good moments, like having a nearly perfect dorm situation, joining a sorority, and exploring the city, I still felt disheartened.
This feeling was worsened when I returned home for winter break. All of my friends seemed to have changed and to have found themselves in the midst of college life. They seemed so happy with the lives they were creating. I’m not sure jealousy is what I was feeling. Rather, I felt so behind and lost. I started to regret my college choice. Back in the spring, I debated between attending UW or a smaller college in Los Angeles. Growing up, I always imagined that if I ever left the island, it would be for California, where I’d still have access to beaches and warm weather.
In a seemingly poetic turn of events, things seemed to turn around for me as the snow of winter melted. I found my place in a wonderful group of girls, I wrote regularly for Her Campus, and I started finding classes that I genuinely enjoyed.
There were many moments I wanted to simply give up. And to me, giving up meant returning home. But I knew that deep down, there was a reason I felt pulled to attend college here.
I’m not sure if even now, I can pinpoint what that reason might be. But I do know that coming to college here taught me that I can do hard things.
I still don’t feel like I have necessarily changed in the ways many people do in college. I’m not a whole new me, which I expected I would be. I do feel, though, that I have become more myself. My UW experience has given me opportunities that have changed me for the better. Being the Editor-in-Chief of Her Campus and leading this group of incredible, creative women has been a key experience that I will treasure forever. Working in the Office of Admissions as an Admissions Representative has inspired me to continue to work in higher education upon graduation and has given me a wonderful community here on campus. I have made incredible memories with my friends here, from a girls’ trip to Canada to memorable 5ks to treasured hangover breakfasts. Every experience I have had here and every person I have connected with have helped me grow and learn.
I am so thankful for the 18-year-old version of myself that took on the challenge, said yes, this is hard, but I can keep going. The best things in life never really do come easily.