You’ve changed me for the better.

I’d heard so many horror stories before coming to college about dorms and weird roommates. At TCNJ, specifically, I heard that the Towers were excruciatingly hot in the summer and that there was no Wi-Fi, so the Ethernet service was pretty awful. I also knew how old the buildings were and I figured that the dorm rooms were probably plain, gross and falling apart. All of these things proved to be true, yet I still wouldn’t change my experience as a Travers' resident at all.

I didn’t always think this, though. Before moving in, there were so many questions going through my head. What will the room look like? Will the mini fridge and microwave take up too much space? Where am I going to put my stuff? How much stuff is too much to bring? How much is too little? Will I have a closet? Will my clothes fit in my drawers? Will I feel like I’m in prison? Will I be able to sleep comfortably every night?

When I first walked into my room, my fears were confirmed. Everything was so plain and old. The cinderblock walls made me feel like I was in prison. The tile floors were cold and all I could think was, "I’m going to hate every second of living here."

Nevertheless, I began to settle in, and as I put my pictures on the wall and the sheets on my bed, I realized that the room didn’t look so desolate and empty anymore. It had my touch. It was my room.

Over the course of the year, I made so many memories in my room (both good and bad). There were countless nights spent studying for tests and completing grueling homework assignments, but there were also nights when I just sat on my bed and watched Netflix or Skyped my favorite person. I had visitors and I spent nights alone. I laughed and I cried. I had mental breakdowns and I stressed out a lot, but at the end of the day I would fall asleep and wake up refreshed and ready to take on a new day of the semester.

As I pack up my room and prepare myself to move out, I can’t help but look around my room and think two things: 1. "Wow, I didn’t know I owned so much stuff" and 2. "Despite how much I complain about it, I’m actually going to miss this place."

Thinking about closing and locking my door one last time feels bittersweet. I know that I’m moving on to bigger and better things next semester, but I don’t want to let go of how my dorm room has shaped me as an individual and as a student. It's a room that represents my freedom and growing up.

It was the first room I lived in on my own. My parents weren’t upstairs and I had to walk to the dining hall to eat meals. I couldn’t rely on anyone else to do anything for me. I had to do my own laundry, sweep the floor and replace the soap when it ran out.

It brings a smile to my face when I think about how many people this small room has affected in the past and how many it will affect in the future.

So T707, in the words of Fall Out Boy, “thks fr th mmrs.”