When reflecting on my college experience so far, I'm not sure if the words "drop out" adequately describe it, but this is the expression I've come to use time and time again. But I mostly do it to add comedic relief to a really traumatic experience, not because its 100% true.

After a terrible first semester at a private liberal arts college in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, I had registered for personal leave. It was time for me to pack up my stuff, and get out, and so I did. But then I returned to Westchester with absolutely no idea of my next step. I was no longer in school, I didn't have a job or internship lined up, and I was back in my hometown without any of my hometown friends.

While my childhood friends left the cushy nest of Westchester and found success in their new homes, I on the other hand, had not. In theory, returning home to my family should have been comforting. Given my emotional and mental state at my old school and upon leaving, this should have been a good thing in my head-- but it wasn't.

What good was it for me, a now severely depressed teenage girl, to be back on her own stomping ground if she didn't have the confidence, emotional stability or plans to tackle this return? Within a few weeks, I was forced, by my parents, to make a plan for myself, so I did. But right after I returned home, those first couple weeks, that was the hardest part. That was way harder than actually leaving my old school, or making up a new plan. The generally "let down" reactions I received from my friends and family, and even myself, when I first got home-- that was the most difficult part of the entire process.

These are the things I wish I could've had the courage to voice earlier. Both during my time at that school and especially once I returned home to all those disappointed faces.

1. I wish I was more honest with my parents, earlier on, about my depression and overall experience there. (Instead, I lied, kept quiet, and all because I was afraid they'd be disappointed, which they inevitably were.)

2. I wish I hadn't allowed myself to get swallowed up by said depression. (Instead, I stayed in bed every second I wasn't in class.)

3. I wish I hadn't tried so hard, suffocating myself, to make myself want to be there. (Instead, I tried to force myself into the mold.)

4. I wish I knew ahead of time that this school wouldn't work out for me . (Instead, I let my parents' encouragements about the school's reputation win me over.)

5. I wish I was more sorry about the whole experience. (Instead, I know it was the best decision I've ever made.)

6. I wish could've left school without feeling so much relief. (Instead, I cried tears of joy.)

7. I wish I could've told my parents how much it hurt me when they tried to force me to stay. (Instead, I just sat there and let them tell me what they thought was best for me.)

8. I wish I could've told my parents how much it hurt me when I saw how devastated and disappointed they were. I was already dealing with enough, and that made it 10 times harder. (Instead, I let them be mad at me when I desperately needed their help.)

9. I wish I could've told my parents to focus more on my happiness and mental health then how "nice" it would look to their friends, family, and future employers of mine for me to have received a degree from that "prestigious" school. (Instead, I let them call their friends and complain about "what to do with Carly.")

And the biggest one:

10. I wish every time someone told me they were "sorry," that I had the chutzpah to tell them that I wasn't sorry for leaving or disappointing anyone and that I needed to do what I needed to do, and leaving was just that. They shouldn't have felt bad, sorry, or sympathy for me, they should've been proud of me for standing up for myself, and finally feeling like I could breathe again. (Instead, I said "thanks," or "it's ok").

Number ten is the most significant because, after I had gotten over the hump of initially coming home, I had begun to accept my decision. At first, my family and I were embarrassed, and sometimes I still am, and I know they are too. But then I started to accept it, and eventually "own it." So then for people to look at me like I was a lost puppy dog, when in reality I had never felt more empowered, was insulting, patronizing, and very along the same mentality of my parents' that "it's a shame I left such a great (academically) school."

So now, when I tell people about my experience at my old school, the process of coming home, and now being a visiting student trying to figure out my next couple steps, I refer to myself as a college dropout. Considering I finished the semester and received full credit, this isn't exactly true. But I know, from the way everyone looks at me when I say I left, that they feel bad for me. So, just to mess with them, I throw in the words "drop out," even though it's not true, but it still makes us both laugh. I'd rather call myself the drop out then let them think it before I say it.

I guess my thought process is, maybe if I can laugh while talking about it, everyone will finally stop feeling bad for me and realize I took ownership over my own life and education.