Now, before I start this article, I should probably include a disclaimer: I don't hate or despise any of the people in this story. This is purely my subjective opinion on how my life happened, how it affected me, and what I'm doing now to remedy it. But I should also note, that this is sort of a tell-all; I don't intend on sugar-coating my story since it is mine to tell. So this is for all of you who have had someone in your life bringing you down, and here's how I got through it.

In the summer of 2018, I found my roommate. I felt that we had a good amount in common, and I got genuinely excited about the coming school year. I was always someone so excited to go to college and leave home. Honestly, that hasn't changed at all and I don't think it ever will.

But nevertheless, the move-in weekend was so fun. I already had so many friends from orientation and a budding romance on the rise. Things were looking up for me already.

Since I had friends I was really close with, I almost always ended up sleeping over in their room. Almost ALWAYS. There weren't really any times I stayed in my own room except for changing and getting ready. That is what initially started my problem. I was letting my roommate get used to me not being there. She kind of adapted it into her own space.

The problem started when I would come back late at night to change or brush my teeth or maybe even go to bed. There was never a time when I wasn't bothering her, and that became frustrating. So, I changed my habits. I made sure to walk without shoes on, and close doors quickly so they would squeak. I brushed my teeth in the shower room and sometimes crawled into bed in my day clothes. As you could probably guess, this wasn't enough.

I got complained to about my alarm in the morning, about the people I had over. Sometime between the start and close of the semester, the room was taken from me completely. People couldn't sit or be on her side of the room. She would have overnight guests all the time, but I was never allowed to unless she was gone. My whole world, and the room that I paid for became some isolated place that wasn't really mine at all.

My whole first semester of college I felt uncomfortable, unwelcome, and hated in the one place I should have felt safe. Of course, this is just how it made me feel. Sometimes I would leave dishes out for a day too long, or accidentally leave my stuff sitting on the wrong side of the room. But I tried so hard to be respectful, and I tried to be someone that could at least be tolerated. But I was never enough for my roommate. And honestly, at the end of the day, that's okay. Maybe if I were in a different situation, it wouldn't be. Maybe I should care that she went all semester talking about how awful and uncaring I was. I should care about those things, and maybe on some level I do.

But, let me tell you where I am now. Now, I moved up three floors in one day because I was in a rush. I moved in with a girl I just met a few months ago, but who I already know is a lifetime friend. I moved in with someone who makes me laugh and gives me my space in the room if I ask, and respects my living as I do hers. I live with someone that I ENJOY cleaning with because I want to impress her. I want to impress her because I know when I do things, she will appreciate them. Most importantly, when I walk into my room at night, I am always happy and always accepted, and I am forever happy I made my decision. I now have a place to go when I'm stressed or sad or need a moment alone. Now I get to have moments to myself, but also enjoy moments with the girl I lie with now. I am so, so happy. And life is now so, so worth it.