A reflection on changing, growing, learning, and losing
Photo by Mary MacLeod.
Sept. 5, 2022. I pulled into parking lot five with a full car and a full heart. The summer sun beat down on my back, cut only by the occasional gust of a breeze, a harbinger of colder days to come. Fridges, boxes, bikes, and bags puttered by with a clunk as directives flew across the asphalt. This was the day; all of the butterflies that wreaked havoc on the walls of my stomach would finally have a chance to fly free.
I opened the door to what would be my home for the next eight months, and unpacked as best as you can into a space that doesn’t feel like your own. After saying goodbye to my family, the profound silence and solitude smothered me. But the allure of possibility was stronger than fear, and so began the whirlwind that would be first year.
At first, I wandered the campus feeling like a con man, certain someone would catch on to my scheme, the ruse would be up and I’d be sent back where I belonged. But orientation week came and went with pomp and circumstance, then classes began, then midterms, final papers, and final exams. The moments between were filled with new friends, new enemies, new loves, new loss, and new experiences; all molding a person far different from the one who pulled up to campus back in September.
Winter break came, and I looked out the window and watched the snow fall on the pavement, the warm glow of the fireplace on my back and the smell of Christmas in the air. I realized how returning to my childhood bedroom for the first time felt more like a holiday than a homecoming.
I walked into my spring classes with slightly more confidence. After all, I had made it through once, who’s to say I couldn’t do it again? Yet, I still had more questions than answers. Second semester came and went with even more velocity than the first, and now here I stand. Completely different than before, but still trying to ascertain what has changed.
I asked other first-years the biggest lesson they had taken away from this year. Some remarked on the futility of striving for academic perfection, the need for a support system, or the necessity of using your meal plan wisely.
However, the throughline seemed to be a recognition that things don’t really get solved. We come together and fall apart, live, and grow, and lose, and somehow keep living. It is the greatest gift to be able to experience this, and to do so with others who are all on their own journeys.
Moving into second year, I am excited to continue to open my heart and mind to new experiences and embrace what university has to offer, both challenging and joyous. I hope to continue to wake up and appreciate where I am, while still looking to where I am going. To stay curious and to keep looking ahead to whatever comes next.
