Walking up the stairs, I was lost. Confused. I went the wrong way like 26 times, my mom didn't know where we were going either, the two of us searching for my new home god, that was weird. I finally made it to my room.
Number 352. I was there. I was nervous, we opened the door. We looked at each other knowing we shared the same thought of, “Wow this is it.” This is where I would be. Not in a bad way, the room was great. But wow this is it.
Moving in was the most stressful day in all of my 19 years (at that point) on planet earth. I didn’t know what to expect. What would my roommate be like? Would we be friends? Would she hate me? Millions of questions couldn’t help but flood through my brain and some would even pour out through my eyes.
Meeting my roommate, Laura, was the most fear I had faced. This may seem slightly dramatic, probably because I am so dramatic, but it was scary. I was meeting this person that I was going to live with, for the two week period before we could switch roommates at least. Spoiler: I didn’t switch roommates. She’s amazing. I couldn’t have done this year without her.
I don’t make a single decision without consulting her. I still don't.
When I was settled, I met more people at one time than I ever even thought was possible. I probably said “Hi, I’m Courtney” and “I’m from Quincy” 432 times, in one day. But I was glad.
I finally formulated a close group of friends towards the very end of the first semester. I’m so grateful for them, they kept me on my feet, and I felt like this was finally my life. The community friendship brings never ceases to amaze me.
352. My dorm number. This room housed so much. It housed late night study sessions, some not so great decisions with my friends on the weekends. It also housed breakdowns, more breakdowns than I probably like to admit. It housed jam sessions with my friends to Disney songs, practically every day. Essays being written at 3:00 a.m. with a cup of dunks next to me or red bull. Vent sessions with my girlfriends about life, from late at night into early in the morning. My best friends from home and my boyfriend would even come to visit me some weekends which allowed them to see this little part of me, In 352. Which now I realize was such a large part of me.
Looking back, there is no experience like college. To be more specific, there really is no experience like freshman year of college. We are asked so much.
Leave home. Move in with somebody you don’t even know. Go to class. Get good grades. Join clubs. Be social. Study hard. Go out. It occurred to me recently how much that is to ask of people. I feel nothing but proud of where I am now.
It wasn’t easy, but I made it.
Thank you to my parents, for dealing with stressed phone calls, and meltdowns, driving four hours round trip to pick me up when I needed Quincy and a home-cooked meal,and everything else I could never even start to go over.
Thank you to my roommate, Laura. Whom I've only known a little over half a year, but knows me inside and out. To all my new friends I've made here, it was so cool to be apart of a group of such supportive people.
Thank you to Westfield State for providing me with such a beautiful campus, and so many opportunities to come in the next three years.
I have grown. So much. Without even realizing it. I have found out so much about myself, through not being surrounded by a huge family all hours of the day. I will always remember this year, to be challenging. The greatest challenge I have ever known. But now I know it was not impossible. No, it was just challenging.
Enjoy life. This is not a dress rehearsal.
