College seemed to be the scariest thing that I could think of. Whenever I thought about it my stomach would immediately begin to spin in circles. Although I was ready to go off and be by myself and meet new people I was scared to death at the same time. I didn’t know much about the ‘college experience’ and what I thought of, scared me. I pictured hard classes that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with; people that wouldn’t like me, long hikes to get to my classes, and horrible food. I couldn’t imagine leaving the security of my own room, my own stuff where I want it, my friends that I’ve spent practically my whole life with, my family who put up with all my little quirk.
Some of my friends that had already been to college a had come back to visit seemed so much older and more mature. I felt twelve years old in comparison. I thought that I would never be able to fit in. everyone else that I talked to didn’t however seem to have this problem. They all were thrilled at the thought of being on their own and not having to worry about their parents telling them what to do all the time. And sure, the thought was extremely exciting to me as well, but how would I survive without my family and friends and the things that had taken me eighteen years to get used to.
As time went by I began to not think so much about going to college and I just wanted to utilize the time that I had left with my familiar friends. The summer before I came to college was probably the most fun we ever had. We reminisced about our lives growing up and all the fun that we had over the years. We all knew that come September things would never be the same again and we had to make the most of it while we still could. As the end of August rolled around we knew that it was time to say goodbye and be on our way to our own independence. I packed up the memories of the last eighteen years of m life into about five suitcases and was ready to go. I still didn’t feel like I was just as mature as my older college friends and I thought that I still looked like I was twelve years old but I figured I had to go sometime.
We finally made it to the doors and began unloading my clothes and the eight million bags of food that my mom had packed for me. Although I wasn’t too worried about m new roommate seeing as how she was a friend from home and we had already decided to live together, I still was unsure about sharing my room and not being able to have the privacy that I had back home. I was worried that the little habits that I had that no one at home seemed to mind might annoy my roommate and that my roommate might have just as many annoying little habits that I might not be able to handle as well.
After I had all my things unpacked and put exactly where I wanted, my roommate and I decided to go around our hall and see whom we would be living with for the next two semesters. As we went around to different rooms and met different people my nervousness seemed to diminish. I began to realize that not everyone here knew everyone else and everyone was just as anxious and nervous about being here as I was. I started to feel better and was actually kind of excited about living here all by myself.
I still miss the security of living at home and home cooked meals that are nonexistent here and the friends that I grew up with but I know that we’ve all changed and those memories are just that—memories. And when times get too tough my mom is just a phone call away. But I’m not too quick to call her and have her solve my problems. I’ve learned that I can usually work things out by myself. I’m glad that I’ve gone through these changes in myself and it makes me realize that I don’t need to fear change, that it’s just a part of life that everyone has to go through sometime.