12:18 AM. I’m four shots deep, I’ve got two full cups to the left of me, I spot a relatively attractive young man- probably about 21, and homework is the last thing on my mind. Invigorating, right? Hah, yeah, except the four shots were espresso, the two full cups are full of Mint Tea & Soy chai, the relatively attractive young man is my boyfriend who’s completely consumed in the Xbox game Forza, and homework is the last thing on my mind because I just spent the past two hours completing a PowerPoint that’s due on Monday. It’s practically 1 a.m. on a Saturday night and I’m a junior in college. Am I hanging upside down from a keg at some frat house? Stumbling from bar to bar with my friends in the Upper East Side? No… I’m procrastinating finishing the second half of the Spring Diamond Development Plan and snuggled on the couch with a 2-year-old pit bull puppy. If that’s my Saturday night, so be it.

I didn’t go away to school. I never justified taking out $150,000 + in student loans for an undergraduate degree just to “party” and fail out a year later. It wasn’t worth it to me. I mean, I didn’t come up with that idea completely on my own, my parents definitely swayed me more in that direction, but like always, they were right. I never really left home. I didn’t get to dorm. I didn’t get to pack my stuff up twice a year and just peace TF out. I didn’t get to call home and be like, “Hey mom and dad can you send me like a hundred bucks, I’m a little short this week?”, yet ignored them whenever I didn’t need them. It was never, okay Amanda you’re a college student you don’t have to work now. HAH I wish. No, it’s because I didn’t go away that I was able to hold a 20+ hour a week minimum job in order to pay bills and save money.

Staying here taught me so much more than I could ever imagine. It has taught me responsibility, how to be humble, it’s kept me grounded. Going to a university with minimal distractions and thousands of opportunities — if I put in the work — made me force myself to want to do better. If I left when I was 17 I know for a fact that I wouldn’t have the relationship with my parents that I do now. At 17 I was still immature. I thought I was right about everything, I still wanted to argue anything they didn’t agree with. But by being around for the past three years I was able to grow up in front of them. They were able to test my maturity and see how much I’ve grown, which would not have been the case if I chose to be the kid that only came home for breaks and just called them when I needed money.

While they got to see me, I was able to witness their lives too. Working and going to school full time caused me to gain so much more respect for my parents. About how they earn a living and how long their days are. Somehow my mother still managed to have dinner on the table every night and my dad still picked us up/ dropped us off no matter where we needed to go and no matter what time (cough cough 4 a.m. pep rally #NMHSPRIDE).

So, maybe I don’t go to a top, well known, “party school”, I don’t post pictures of me and my friends at bars or doing keg stands. I may not have spent spring break in Panama City. Not doing those things means I’m spending my time being more productive. I work 25 hours a week– soon to be adding another 15, I landed a PAIIIIIIDDDDDD internship at a law firm where I’ll also be gaining credit hours, I’m a full-time student, I hold an executive position in my sorority, and I STILL manage a GPA above 3.5. If I had to give all that up just for a few good Instagram photos and a dozen+ margarita-fueled hangovers then I would've never pushed myself to be better.