Hi, I’m transferring.
It’s something I never thought I’d say, much less do.
Even as I began the search a year ago for new programs and schools, it never truly hit me that transferring would become my reality. I never thought I would be the one “throwing” away two years of my life after settling in this very place.
I’d heard stories of the random student here and there who had transferred, and something always seemed a little bit fishy to me about it. Until I was the girl who was transferring, of course.
Transferring is hard, scary and new. It’s something I would not at all be choosing if it were up to me. I know that sounds crazy because you’re probably thinking it was up to me.
And yes, ultimately, it is my choice to leave one university for another. I take full responsibility for that, of course. But I think that, at the same time, the idea that I chose this fate doesn’t make going through it any easier.
I’ve always thought about the idea of a lesser of two evils, which is ironic, since I’m a pretty optimistic person.
I’d never really dealt with two true evils until now. In fact, I’ve never had to determine which is the lesser.
And in this case, staying and leaving were both weighed out pretty evenly. But by asking myself the hard questions, the questions that kept me up at night about why I so desperately needed to make a change, I figured it out.
Sometimes you just have to say goodbye to something -- whether it is bad or whether it is good.
The school I’m saying goodbye to is a good school. It is prestigious, beautifully landscaped and in the middle of one of the best cities in the entire country.
It is a Christian university, exceptionally safe and full of opportunity both inside and outside the classroom. I do not doubt the school itself, not by any means. I’m not even doubting myself either.
I’m simply saying goodbye to something good in hopes of finding something better.
When it comes to transferring schools, you shouldn’t have to explain yourself. But here I am, day after day, explaining my decision to people who are vaguely curious rather than genuinely interested.
As the conversation starts, I see their eyes knit together in confusion, I start to sweat a little, and ultimately, I end up closing it all off prematurely. And that’s been my reality this entire semester.
I don’t know why it’s so difficult to explain to others why we sometimes need to give up good things.
I guess, maybe, I know I want to strive for something more suited to my needs and desires, something more fitted for me. Maybe I see things like academic careers in a different light than those around me.
It could even be that finding something "even better" is the scariest risk of all.
And finally, maybe the people I’m surrounded by have never had the humbling experience of feeling severely out of place, constantly alienated. But I have.
And that’s why I am so confident in the fact that yes, I am very much leaving something good behind. But I am certainly in store for something much greater. I hope you finally understand it too.
