With spring break just around the corner, it’s hitting me (and probably many other freshmen too) that I can finally go home. But, as this year has progressed and I’ve continued to make new friendships and bonds here on the Hill, I’ve come to a confusing position. Where is “home” anymore? I’m not even sure. There are definitely times when I just want to lay in my own bed and see my family and meet up with old friends from high school. However this little school with its charming village and its midterm cramming sessions and its dorm life that’s never predictable (shoutout to Shorney), is slowly but surely becoming a place where I feel “at home.”
It’s weird to think that last year at this time, my definition of home was solid and unmoving. Instantaneously, the image of my red brick house where I’d spent the last ten years of my life popped into my mind. Home was the public high school I went to (and sometimes dreaded to be honest), but it was familiar. Home was the tiny barn out in the countryside where I spent many long afternoons riding and taking lessons from my biggest coach and mentor. That’s the key word: familiarity. Familiarity meant safety to me.
I think these familiar settings of home flashed even bolder and vibrantly in my mind right before I left for college, because I was about to start a new chapter in my life and though I was eager to tell people that I was excited to go and explore new things, the truth of the matter was that I was not excited in the least. In fact, I never really wanted to leave, especially when I had a chance to linger on the summer calendar, counting down the days until I moved into my new dorm.
I’m scared of the unknown. I’m scared of change. I always have been, and likely always will be. But, as I am slowly realizing, without change there are no experiences. After a while, you can get “stuck” in a stable, unwavering routine, and that’s fine. After all, for eighteen years that’s what I thought I wanted in life.
Sometimes, though I don’t necessarily want to admit it, change is essential to living life to the fullest. Risks are often times intimidating and scary; I know this better than anyone. I used to let them push me away back into what was familiar. What I’m learning this year is that risks can also be so worth getting out of your comfort zone, and many times bring more a more positive outcome than you might expect. There are definitely rough patches, and tough times, but there are also the happy times and the memories you will not forget. That’s what college has brought me so far. It’s been an experience, and I am growing as an individual because of my time in Ohio.
So, thank you, Denison. I am still in a weird transition with a foot in Maryland, and a foot in Granville. However, I am learning that change is okay; better than that, change is good.
