In my sophomore year of high school, a counselor commented that my grades would get me in one of the lower-ranked state schools—if I was lucky. Granted, my grades were pretty terrible (especially for my high school’s standards). But since my pride rivals that of a male peacock’s, I wanted, so badly, to show her that I could be good enough.

Fast forward a couple of years and we reach senior year. A lot has changed. I’m at a different high school, but my former counselor’s words still rattled in my head. As is expected of most high school seniors, I thought I had the entirety of my college career planned out. I had paid all my dues; I took the SATs, somehow managed to figure out the Common App, spent a small fortune on application fees and tried to make myself marketable in 750 words or less. After losing my sanity in the process, I decided to attend Syracuse University and major in Communications. I remember being so proud of myself. I proved her wrong, hadn’t I? Well, after a particularly unfortunate event, I found out that I wouldn’t have as much financial help from the university as I initially anticipated.

My life plan all whittled down to two options: either take out loan upon loan or go to community college. Truthfully, at that moment it felt like I was asked to pick one circle of hell over another. Growing up, community college was never even supposed to be a back-up college. It just wasn’t. After hemming and hawing for eons, I couldn’t justify the price tag that comes with a four-year university so I decided to go to community college. The biggest things I’m grateful for are that I didn't spend as much money as I would have and knowing that majoring in Communications wouldn't have been the right choice for me.

After wrapping up my two years there, I applied to Saint Rose—obviously. Transferring is always weird. It feels like reading the second book in a series you haven’t read (yes, I’ve done this before). I think the hardest part about transferring was just getting used to the environment and the community. It sounds simple, but that’s in theory and that’s the keyword: in theory. Getting acclimated took time. I came home every chance I could because I needed to be somewhere familiar. It wasn’t until my spring semester that I think I found my groove.

For all my fellow community college and transfer students reading this who may or may not be in the same boat I once was: hey there, you're probably doing amazing things. Try not to feel too off kilter because you weren't where you were hoping to be. You're still on schedule; there's just a few extra steps wedged in. Hey, at least your family didn't need to move into a studio apartment to save money—that would've been a disaster. Work hard and keep at it. I can't guarantee when things will change, but eventually, everything will come naturally.