This is it. The moment we’ve all been waiting for. We’ve been pushed from our nests and out into the (pseudo) real world, here to fend for ourselves, to fly or fall on our own. And that’s sort of the problem because we want to fly, so, so badly. At least, I do. The idea of falling is probably the scariest thing I can think of.

A word many of my friends choose to describe as is independent. I enjoy alone time and like to do a lot by myself. Not liking to rely on others comes from being physically disabled and using a manual wheelchair. I can’t rely on others for everything, even though it would be extremely easy to do so. I often feel as though if I do try to rely on someone else, I will fall and never get back up.

Being extremely independent causes me to do a lot of things that aren’t the best choice because I want to prove I can do them, and one of those choices was going to a school in a very snowy climate. The majority of my days have been good ones where I’ve had no trouble getting to class, but I did have several days where it was impossible, and some that I probably shouldn’t have gone at all, because it had snowed so much they could not clear it well enough. One of those days I got stuck in the snow. (Yes, you can laugh, it’s actually kind of funny to me now, but don’t laugh yet, it’ll kill the sad but poignant mood -- laugh in about two minutes). It was at noontime, so the campus was alive with students going to get lunch, meet up with friends, and get back into their rooms to warm up before their afternoon classes. As I sat there, both embarrassed and going into an anxiety attack, one of my sorority sisters found me, and asked over and over again if I needed help. I kept saying no.

It was terrible, I couldn’t move, there were people around me, and I wouldn’t let her help me because I was so frustrated. I just wanted to be able to go get lunch by myself. I’ve been doing it for the past 19 years, why today, why right now do I have to be completely helpless? Eventually, though, realizing my situation was hopeless, I said yes, and through my tears, she got me into the campus center, and we had lunch together.

Thinking back on that day, I still feel a bit uncomfortable about it, but more from the embarrassment from sitting there than anything else. I’m also proud of myself because I asked for help. Or, well, OK, I agreed to accept help, which is basically the same thing, right?

We all want to be incredibly independent in college -- it’s our first shot at being adults. But sometimes you get stuck, you fall a little. And it’s terrifying and overwhelming, and embarrassing because you know you’re more put together than this, you know you’re better than this. But the truth is, no one gets the whole adulting thing right on the first try. Everyone has to find themselves a little, get lost a little, and fall a little. What’s important is not continuing to fall. What’s important is recognizing you’re falling, and accepting help when you need it. We aren’t alone in college, though it can seem like it sometimes. We walk the old, brick streets with thousands of other students who are flying and falling along with us, streets where even more walked before us, and made it. But they didn’t make it without accepting help, and learning to ask for help. They made it by making it together, and so shall we.

So let’s learn to fly, fall, and help each other fly again.