When I walked onto campus in the fall of 2014, I unpacked my body pillow and mini fridge with high hopes for my future at my university. I timidly applied for Student Government, eventually joined a sorority and even found a major I love.

Freshman year was a breeze. It was two very boring semesters of general education courses and nearly straight A’s. My roommate and I became best friends and I surrounded myself with people who were truly wonderful influences on myself and my future.

Simply put, I thought I was on the fast track to a happy life post-graduation. I thought I would be taking my LSAT in the spring, applying for SLU Law School in the fall and by the next fall be a present day Elle Woods.

I had my advising appointment, and the harsh reality hit me; I will be spending a full five years at my university. I was blissfully unaware that one single fun filled semester put me an entire year behind. My GPA could make a recovery but I would never have the ability to play catch up. It was an unfortunate truth that I’m still trying to absorb.

I was too embarrassed to tell my family and friends. I felt ashamed. Most important, I felt disappointed in myself. I kept questioning myself, my major and my ability as a student. Would I force myself to overdo it to only be a semester behind? Would I feel weird being the oldest active in my sorority? Would people look at me differently for being on a five year plan?

I’m beginning to realize that there’s nothing wrong with staying at a university I love for an extra year. I have a great group of friends, a major I still love and a city I don’t mind spending another year in. I get an extra year to prepare for life after graduation, and I’m convinced that was fate, God or whatever you believe in asking me to stay for a fifth go around at college.

College is too great to only spend four years here anyways.