A year ago, I began the process of packing up my life. In August of 2017, I was preparing to move to Pennsylvania for my first year of college. It’s a cliche, but I had no idea what was in store for me. A few months ago, I had finished my senior year of high school. I was proud of how I had lived my senior year; I had a series of clear goals that I accomplished. Last year, I felt ready to go to college. Was I nervous? people would ask. No, I would answer. Truth was, I didn’t know. I had never experienced a change like this before; I didn’t know what to expect. I was nervous, but I wasn’t afraid or worried. For the most part.
The last month of my summer flew by. I worked a lot that last summer (at least, it felt like I did), and I didn’t have much time to dwell on the fact that I was going to college soon. I packed up my room; I ordered some new clothes; purchased some text books (but forgot to buy the vast majority). I was ready to go to school.
I rode to Pennsylvania with my parents on the 23rd of August. I moved in the 24th. I had been to Grove City three times before moving in but the town and campus still felt foreign. I remember it was sprinkling when we drove up to campus. Dozens of students, all in matching t-shirts, awaited us. These were the members of “OB”–Orientation Board. They were ready and EXCITED to dunk the new freshman into the crazy world that is college.
I felt a little dazed, to tell the truth, as I climbed the stairs to my dorm room, carrying up load after load. Arranging the furniture–and then rearranging it–and rearranging it again. The magnitude of what I was doing hit me as I said goodbye to my parents. This was likely the last time I would see them until the end of October. It hit me, and it hit me hard.
I’m not much of a crier, but I got close that morning as I said goodbye to my parents in a parking lot outside my dorm. But I didn’t have time to cry–minutes later and freshman were swept off to the first of many meetings, lectures, and group activities. They were determined to exhaust us.
I had one definite fear going into college: that I wouldn’t make any friends. In high school and before, I was quiet, private, even shy. A classic introvert, I didn’t mind social interaction, but I tended to prefer my own company. The close friendships that I had in high school had been forged over years, and I could remember an earlier time when I had felt lonely. I didn’t want to feel like an outsider in college. No one wants to be the kid with no friends, but I was genuinely afraid I would be that kid. I recognized my social anxiety and I feared that it would cripple me.
I told myself I wouldn’t let that happen. I made a promise to myself that during the first month of school, I would introduce myself to everyone I encountered–or as close as I practically could. Such a promise made me queasy with nerves, but it also excited me. It gave me a reason to be social, a push to go out and talk to people.
For the most part I stuck to that promise and during the first month of school I met hundreds of people. I realized that the six-hundred other freshman at my small college were all like me: they were young people struggling to figure out who they were, anxious for close friendships. During my first semester, I forged a tight core friend group, and many other close bonds beside it. I learned time and time again the importance of surrounding yourself with people who will invest in you, and the responsibility to invest back in them that comes with such friendships.
It’s another cliche, but first semester was over before I knew it. It felt like only days after move-in that my Dad was helping me load a small suitcase into the back of our car to go home for a month. Just like that, I was home again for Christmas. I missed my new friends but it was good to be with my family. When I went back for my second semester, I thought that I was ready. How different could second semester be from the first?
It proved that it could be very different, in ways good and bad, and it tested me and challenged me in ways the first hadn’t. Second semester seemed to say: You say you’ve learned all these things last semester, but did you really? Are you ready to live out those lessons? Second semester I faced classes far different from those I had taken in the previous months; relationships were tested; new friendships grew and some old ones fell away. I joined new clubs and activities and accepted leadership positions and responsibilities.
Second semester went by even faster than the first, partly because I never went home my second semester. Four months passed in what felt like a week and then I was done. It was time to go home. I was saying goodbye to friends, some of whom I had only befriended within the last few weeks of school, and I was riding home in a vehicle stuffed full of my life.
And only now have I finally made time to sit down and reflect on that year as a whole, and the things that I learned. I already shared some lessons I learned in my first semester in this post so I’ll try not to repeat those.
First, I had to learn to let myself grow. That probably sounds a little cheesy but it’s something I had to learn. I had to be okay with admitting that I’d made a mistake so that I could grow from it. Otherwise I would never learn anything. A lot of second semester involved admitting, that yup, that was a mistake, and moving on.
I learned that when it comes to picking activities, the only right way to do it is to do what works for you. Some people will tell you that you should pick a dozen clubs and later decide which ones are “for you” and others will tell you to pick one or two and heavily invest in those. Different methods work for different people.
I learned the importance of being self-motivated. I no longer had the step-by-step deadlines of high school, or the vigilance of parents to keep me accountable on my assignments. I had to decide for myself when to do my coursework. On top of that I had to balance my other schedules and responsibilities. I didn’t always get it right, but again, that’s how you learn.
I learned that I’m an extrovert! Being around people energizes me in a way I had never expected, and I love it!
I learned that I’m not going to like everyone, and not everyone is going to like me, but I have to be okay with that. I was also repeatedly reminded that being kind to someone you don’t get along with isn’t “fake”, it’s politeness.
I learned that I should worry about my own problems before trying to fix the problems of other people.
And here’s a big one: I learned, finally, that it’s okay to ask for help. This is a lesson that my incredibly patient parents have drilled into me again and again and I think now I’ve finally got it. Asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness.
I’ve learned not to wish time away because it passes very quickly. I’m already a quarter of the way done with my college experience. In some ways, that makes me sad, but then I remember that life doesn’t end after college, just as it didn’t end after high school. And I’ve got three more years at a wonderful place with wonderful people and I’m very excited to enjoy it all.
In seventeen days I start my second year. Remember those OB members in t-shirts I mentioned at the start of this post? I’ll be one of those next year. I’ll be on the other side of the freshman experience, and I couldn’t be more excited.