While many of my friends from home had already experienced their own unique first-week experiences in the time that I had been packing for college, I tried my best to refrain from developing expectations based on "Move-In Day" updates on Facebook, countless "pic with the roomie" posts on Instagram, and not to mention all other activity on social media swarming with college-life updates. I took (mostly) everything one step at a time up until the point of moving into my dorm, saying goodbye to my dad, and being left to fend for myself in the overwhelming adult world.
The first major feeling I experienced was a heavy pang of loneliness, which may very well have been amplified by the fact that I moved in two days before the official date. Having only two or three other people moved into the entire residence hall, let alone not even having a roommate with you for those two days didn't exactly provide a warm, welcoming atmosphere. I immediately wished I could be back in Minnesota, hiking up a semi-pathetic ski-hill to watch the sun set over a breath-taking 360-degree view of the skyline or hardcore jamming out to Taylor Swift throwbacks while cruising down the freeway to Minneapolis with my best friends as I did the night before.
The loneliness was soon taken over by utter stubbornness to not let such temporary things get me down, especially when I hadn't even started classes yet. There were a few points in which I caved in and called my dad for my own sake. He pretty much reiterated what I had been trying to tell myself, which was reassuring because I knew my mind was in the right place. I constantly thought to myself, "I'm here for a reason. I worked my sheer butt off to get to this door of opportunity and I am not going to let things, things that are in my control, take me away from it."
Later in the stirring pot of emotions came an overwhelming sense of me wanting to partake in everything available once everyone else moved in (except for the seemingly endless ice-breakers and repetitive what's your name's, where you're from's, and what's your major's. The activity that really got me psyched about making a new and improved name for myself was the Hypnosis Show hosted by a Drake-look-alike. I didn't just watch the show, I was the person being watched at the show. Sure, it was cool being known as a crowd favorite as I said and did some ridiculously unprompted things, but what made this the best thing I could have done for myself in the moment was the fact that I would never have been expected to do this sort of thing back in high school. You were held extremely accountable to upholding these absurd expectations made by people who claim to know you better than yourself. Let me tell you that it does not feel like that in college.
It felt so good to make a name for myself—which is now widely regarded as "Tina Fey" since that was my legendary, candid response to the hypnotist's question,"What is your spirit animal?" Now every time I do something for myself, whether it be participating in a Zumba or Hip-Hop class, taking power naps in between a packed schedule, or buying myself avocado ice cream after a five-hour Chemistry lab, I think to myself, "You go, Tina."
Obviously, it is not going to be a smooth ride on this road of my life's grandest pursuits, but just in this first week of college, I have learned to recognize the things that are temporary and ultimately able to overcome. I have learned that a college is a place that nurtures self-reflection and self-advocation. I have learned that I sub-consciously believe that my spirit animal is Tina Fey and that if I were a superhero, I would be "a f*cking water-bender." College is fantastic and I cannot wait to explore what lies beyond this door of opportunity.
