Everyone has an identity in high school. Maybe you're the jock, the nerd, the slacker, or the popular princess (wow, I guess "The Breakfast Club" was actually pretty spot on, huh?). I was the smart, over-achiever, class-president-and-super-peppy-cheerleader type. The one who took all the AP classes, ran student council, hosted pep rallies, and was on homecoming and prom court.

To be honest, I liked my identity. I was a cheerleader, but I wasn't a mean girl—in fact, I was often known as the "nice one." I liked being known as someone who was smart because it felt like my hard work was being recognized. If I had to do high school over again, I don't think I would do that much different.

But now, as I've started college, I've realized that no one here knows me by this identity.

And I love it.

Sure, there was nothing wrong with who I was in high school. But here, I don't have to live up to those standards. As cheesy as it may sound, I can be whoever I want to be. So, I'm choosing not to try to live by a certain, boxed-in identity: I'm choosing just to live as me.

I don't have to be known just as "smart."

When I was applying for housing, I didn't choose to live in an Honors dorm, even though I could have. While there's nothing wrong with living in Honors, it seemed like to some people, it was a status symbol. Personally, I didn't really care. Out of all my previous identities, I would say that "the smart girl" was the main one. And while I still consider myself intelligent and enjoy school and doing well, it is not the most important thing in the world. To me, choosing not to live in Honors housing gave me an opportunity to get out of that box.

I don't have to worry about what people think of me.

Okay, I'll admit it. I was always worried about what people thought of me in high school. I wanted to stand out, but not in a way that would make people judge me. I had my comfort zone, and I stayed in it a lot. Here, no one knows me. I have no reputation to uphold. If I embarrass myself in front of someone, I just remind myself that there are 20,000 people on campus, so I may never see them again anyway. And to be honest, even if someone doesn't like me...who cares? I'm here for me, not for them.

I don't have to do anything that doesn't make me happy.

In high school, I put myself in situations that made me miserable, partially because I didn't want to lose my identity. When other cheerleaders were horrible to me, I just put up with it because cheerleading was all I knew. What would I be without it? I would have been upset if I quit, because I loved the sport, being on the sidelines, and being a role model for younger girls. But, I wish I would have stood up to those mean girls. They made something I loved miserable for me, and so for six years, my love for the sport was overshadowed by others trying to take away my happiness. Now if something doesn't make me happy, I'm not going to put up with it. Whether I confront those making it difficult or simply quit, I will always put my happiness before my identity.

I don't have to live up to anyone's expectations but my own.

Because I was known as the "smart one," everyone was shocked when I failed a test, or, my personal favorite, said that they "couldn't believe" I wasn't number one in the class. Because I was known as the "nice one," I was seen as a pushover. Because I was "president of everything," I was excluded from things because people thought I would take over. Here, no one expects anything from me. It's up to me whether I fail or succeed, and no one has the right to form any opinions on it.

If there's one thing I've learned in my first month of college, it's that no one cares what you do. But, I mean this in a good way. No one expects you to act a certain way, or join a certain club, or live your life categorized into a tiny box. When you're starting college, you don't have a certain identity. This is great! You can do what you want, be who you want, and stand up for what you want. You have the full freedom to decide what life you will build for yourself.

I may not know exactly what life I'll have yet or what I'll be known for, but I know I won't allow my identity to be restricted into the tiny little box of what society thinks of me.

I know that the girl I was in high school—the one who cared too much about what others thought of her, let others put her down, and let society decide who she was—she's so gone.