I really don't know where the time went. I still remember moving into my freshman dorm, rushing my fraternity, all the big projects, wild nights, and everything in between. Now I'm looking my last semester of college straight in the face, and it's so hard to believe that so many years have passed since I started this journey.
Thinking back to freshman year, I was a different person. We all were. I was intent on translating all of the great parts from my life at home to college, including the close circle of friends that I had and the activities I was involved in. I made it a mission to find my sense of normalcy in a new place, almost as if I was piecing back together the elements of my life. As someone who hates change, I was trying to cope.
I was trying to be comfortable.
I would go back home all the time, just an hour away. I'd walk my old stomping grounds understanding the fact that they weren't ever going to be the exact same. I had this friend back home who I got really close to the summer before I left for college. He's one of those people that enters your life for a short amount of time, and ends up teaching you things about yourself. A pivotal moment in my freshman year was being back home for a weekend and sitting on the concrete of a local park with him, talking about college and life in general into the early morning hours. I would always tell him what I was uncomfortable about, and how I felt like I was in limbo.
"You can't come home anymore. You're not doing yourself any favors."
Those words still strike me. I'll never forget the tone he said it in and the sincerity in which he said it. He saw something in me that I wasn't self-aware enough to see for myself. I wasn't doing myself any favors. Truly, I wasn't. Coming home was taking away from the beauty of being in a new place. I had 18 years of experience back home, and four years ahead of me to conquer a completely new realm of opportunities. Why run away from that? No matter how uncomfortable or introverted I was, this was a time in my life to redefine and refine who I was. You can't grow in a place that you've existed for years, both physically and in your affiliations.
Don't get me wrong, the people and things that I held close to me back then still mean the world to me. I've known most of them since I was three, and we grew up together in the same circle. I considered my friends family, and I know that no matter what we can pick up where we left off. I hated that I would compare everyone I met in college to them. I found myself being constantly disappointed. How could I find new friendships that compare to the ones that were cultivated over 18 years? How could I become as established as I was back home? By being uncomfortable.
Looking back over the years, I know that every single good opportunity or experience was a direct result of me being uncomfortable. Because of that, it's something that I embrace. There is so much to be said about stepping outside of your comfort zone, and making the conscious decision to be vulnerable. When you exist in that state, you grow the most.
I remember meeting really established people on campus as I tried to establish myself. The people who seemed to have it all were the people who took risks. A very close friend and a mentor to me once told me to "bite off more than you can chew, and chew it anyway." I think about that all the time. I naturally have an instinct to cower away from opportunity, or to not even recognize opportunity for what it is. I know now that being uncomfortable is something to embrace. There's nothing wrong with being uncertain. In fact, you never quite know until you just put yourself out there. As time goes on, it gets easier. It's ok to be calculated, but don't limit yourself. You'll find that the areas outside of your comfort zone will slowly start to become comfortable, and you repeat the process all over again.
"To the degree we're not living our dreams, our comfort zone has more control of us than we have over ourselves." - Peter McWilliams
