Worn out from a week of tearful goodbyes and last hurrahs, I left my hometown at three in the morning to travel halfway across the country to college. The car was packed, and I held back tears as I pulled out of my driveway for the last time in a long time. My family and I drove for 12 hours and landed in a tiny town in southern Missouri that I would be calling home for the next two years. I knew that I was going to college to learn and make the decisions that would shape my career and, ultimately, my future. But as I watched my family pull away from my little town and head back to the real world, I had no idea how much I would change in the next nine months.
I grew up in a conservative home in a town full of hippies. My hometown is like a whole other world compared to the other places I've been-- you could rename it Culture Shock, New Mexico and it would be completely accurate. To move from my liberal, weird city in the southwest to a tiny rural town where confederate flags fly freely was one of the most disorienting things I have ever done. The school I was to attend was a unique one, though, so I was sure that it would be worth being stuck in a town with only a superstore and a few parks. After some difficulty finding a room to live in, I moved into a single room in a suite full of people who had been incredibly kind to me. As I unpacked my folded shirts from my moving bags to the chest of drawers in my room, I smelled the strong aroma of my grandmother's fabric softener. I inhaled and began to cry. "I don't know how I'm going to do this," I whispered to myself as I wiped away my tears with the purple t-shirt from which the scent poured. One of my new suitemates, presumably weirded out by the fact that I was crying over my clothes, came into my room to comfort me. "I feel so stupid for crying over something like this. If I can't keep it together while folding my clothes, how am I going to live across the country from my family?" I said through tears. My suitemate, who would later become a very close friend, told me something I've remembered ever since: it's going to hit everyone differently, and you have to learn to live with the changes. I made friends and I changed my major and I became more confident, more articulate and kinder than I had ever been. My friends valued what I had to say and they treated me as an equal. My professors were kind and helpful and made me feel like a vital part of my classes and my college community. That semester was one that changed me forever, and I truly embraced the changes that came my way. I did not realize how much I had changed, however, until I went home for winter break.
When I arrived home and began to see my old friends, I noticed that our interactions were different. Where I used to stay quiet and not defend what I think, I spoke up and was able to have real, deep conversations about the subjects I cared about. I was better able to say what I wanted, and I was surer of myself around others. Whenever someone would comment about me doing something that the "pre-college Tori" would not have, I would shrug and jokingly say "college changed me." This evolved into a joke over time, and I would use it whenever I did anything, but the statement was true. Eventually, people began to say it about me and then say it when they needed ammunition. I had people get upset with me about conversations where I stood my ground or instances where I stood up for myself, and they would say things like "college really did change you" and "I miss the old Tori." These statements stung, and I was horrified that I had turned into a monster. I used to get along so well with these people, and in one semester, I had become unbearable to them. Where did I go wrong? What atrocity had I unknowingly committed against my friends?
The words of my friends haunted me. I began to withdraw again. I didn't speak up as much as I had in the past few weeks. I turned into the "not opinionated Tori" that left for Missouri all those months ago. As I retreated and started thinking about it, I realized that the whole point of going to college in another state was to change. Not only is college for learning the skills and information you need for a career, but it's for learning who you are. Growing up, I was surrounded by family. I had never been away from any member of my family for longer than a week. College was my chance to figure out who I was apart from them-- I was learning who I am as a person, uninfluenced by the people around me. I was no longer a carbon copy of those who criticized my newfound voice, and that made them uncomfortable. I should not feel embarrassed about who I am when I spend time on myself and form my own thoughts. They should feel embarrassed for judging me in my growth.
I'm happier with myself now than when I began college. I know what I want out of life, and I'll happily tell people exactly that. I can speak up when I have something important to say, and I can make important decisions without buckling under the pressure. I am more confident in my thoughts and in my appearance-- going to a tiny college where nearly everyone is sweet and supportive can do that to a person. I have a better idea of who I am now, and aside from the new people I welcomed into my life, I knew that I had a lot to do with it. No matter how supportive the other people in your life are, at the end of the day, the person who is most consistently there for you is yourself. I learned this lesson and am now proud of my ability to stand up for myself. I have changed, yes, but I have changed for the better. The only one who can decide whether or not I am better now is me.
