Growing up, I imagined my transition from high school to college as a relatively smooth one. I would make friends, go to my dream school, and major in something that I loved. I think I watched too much Glee to be honest, which I found out much too late.

This transition hit me like a bus; suddenly I was swept into the world of dorms, over fifteen thousand students from all over the country and even the world, and classes where, quite frankly, teachers didn't know you from Adam. It was a lot to take in.

I never actually did take it in.

By the time October rolled around, I had almost completely stopped going to class, or even leaving my dorm. I hated my major, so I changed it, which gave me a glimmer of hope that things would get better, but as November dragged on, it only got worse. I couldn't make friends, and I even had trouble talking to my three roommates, who I know really tried to include me. I wish I had tried harder sometimes.

OCD began to take over again, and I became afraid of everything in the college being unclean, and spent hours a day scrubbing the inside of my drawers with Clorox. I didn't go home; how could I? If they knew I was unhappy my parents would worry.

It finally got to a point where my relapse was so noticeable that my parents confronted me about it, and I came clean, saying that I hated the dorms and UNO and that this wasn't right for me.

After a few weeks of planning, I came forth with a proposal that my parents had helped with. I would stop attending UNO after the semester ended, and wait until March to apply to Metropolitan Community College to take two years of a more relaxed program.

While I was excited for the change, I still had no idea what I wanted to do. Clearly I wasn't happy studying English or even environmental studies, so what was left?

It took until the end of January to figure out that I just needed to look at what I loved. Sure I loved English, and learning about the environment, but I couldn't sit in a classroom. My parents finally suggested culinary arts, and it was like something clicked. I baked all the time at home, and sure things didn't always turn out how they were supposed to, (I tend to forget ingredients…whoops.) but that was how I had fun and destressed.

So with confidence and excitement for school, both of which my father says he hasn't seen since the beginning of my senior year of high school, I’m starting the baking and pastry program at Metro this coming Thursday.

I have my chef pants, my culinary kit, and finally a smile at the idea of attending class.

I guess the point of this article is that sometimes it takes more than one try to figure out what you want to do with your life, and sometimes you go through some difficult stuff before you settle. But it’s okay to take time, and it’s okay to admit you're struggling. Even more so, it’s okay to change your mind. Creating your life plan doesn't always look like the movies; in fact, it barely ever does, but that doesn't matter.

Take your time, do what you love, and it will fall into place soon enough.