Have you ever had that feeling in the pit of your stomach, where whatever you’re about to do just feels 100 percent wrong? Well, that was how I felt the week before I was supposed to move in to my dorm freshman year.

Looking back, the feeling had been there long before that. I remember stepping onto campus for my freshman orientation thinking, “Wow, I’m a nobody here.” It was huge! Coming from a graduating class of 67, in a school with 400 people total in grades 6 through 12, a school of more than 50,000 people was absolutely terrifying. “But it’ll be OK,” I told myself, “I’ll make friends, find my own niche and fit into this family like everyone has told me I will!”

And then camp came. The school hosts this huge camp for incoming freshmen where you learn about the traditions of the school, and where you’re supposed to meet your best friends. Well, I didn’t. Sure, I met some really awesome people, but it was too much. The cheering, the screaming, the “RAH RAH!!” school spirit. It so wasn’t me. So when I came home, I broke down in tears because I knew I couldn’t do it.

But, I did do it. I kind of had to. Everything was arranged. I honestly felt trapped. My parents honestly didn’t know what to do with me. They wanted to be supportive, but I knew they also wanted me to go and give it a shot. So I did.

My first night there, I went into our little dorm kitchen and met a group of girls, who were honestly some of the coolest people I’ve ever met. We became fast friends, and I stuck with them through the whole first semester. But despite that, I still wasn’t happy. I looked forward to the weekends I could go home more than the ones where I stayed at school. I went to one or two football games, the school’s shining sport, and hated them. I’m not big on school spirit, I’m not big on football (baseball is where it’s at, but that’s a whole ‘nother story) and I realized I just don’t like big schools. I felt like I was a part of an assembly line, just expected to go through this school, sit in my classes of 150+ people and come out smiling with my diploma, just like the other 8,000 people in my class, without the school ever knowing who I am. Coming from a school where I knew everyone and vice versa, that was really hard. I felt lost.

It didn’t get better, either. I wasn’t doing as well in my classes as I would have liked, I had no motivation to study or sometimes to even show up. Despite my wonderful friends, I felt lonely, like no one else was going through what I was, since everyone seemed so into the school and so happy to be there. My health was declining, probably from a combination of bad eating habits and stress, and my anxiety rose to an all-time high. Once my parents saw this, saw that I was actually trying to have a good time and enjoy it, but just wasn’t happy, they knew things had to change. I was lucky. I had applied to the school in my hometown as a senior in high school as kind of an emergency back up, never thinking or wanting to go there. I was able to transfer seamlessly, entering in as a freshman in the spring term. And I can honestly say it is the best decision I have ever made.

These few months at UT Tyler have been exactly what I needed college to be. I’m finally happy again. I was able to reconnect with a friend from high school, as well as join some Real Strong Women in Alpha Chi Omega. I’ve only been here one semester, but I know I’ve found my home, and I am so lucky for that. I’m proud to be a transfer student, because I made a choice that wasn't easy, but that was 100 percent right for me.