There are rites of passages we all face when growing up, these sorts of checkpoints to see how we’re doing with the whole growing-up thing. The first comes around right about when we start kindergarten, when suddenly Mom and Pops are smiling and waving goodbye as we get onto the big yellow school bus of the unknown. From there, it’s all a rushing blur of cafeteria food, tetherball games, and field trips, as our stuffed animals get replaced with actual friends and our parents with teachers. The world quickly shifts into something entirely different than what we thought before, because we realize we hadn’t really seen much of anything at all from the views from our backyard swing sets, despite how (impressively) high we managed to swing.
The next comes about the time we get to junior high school, when all the arguments begin. We get defiant, testy, independent. What gives all these all-mighty adults the right to boss us around? It becomes a time of rebellion, to show that yes indeed you are growing up and it’s about time people stopped feeling nostalgic for your toddler days and left you to be your own person.
But then comes the last rite of passage (in childhood, that is). Suddenly, it’s not big yellow school busses taking you away, but trains, charters, and planes. You were so busy telling everyone how much you were ready to leave, to go out on your own and discover yourself, that you kind of forgot about the part where you actually leave, you’re really and truly on your own. You suddenly aren’t sure why you were so desperate to get to this place of your life that whole time. Nobody is around to hold your hand or to remind you to get some sleep and eat some good breakfast before that exam. No parents, no friends you grew up with, no teachers you knew for years, no pets, no siblings, no nothing at all.
Despite all of those vital, missing pieces, you are not alone. Because the beautiful thing is, every single one of your fellow freshmen is going through the exact same thing. Granted, some of them may adjust more quickly, but anyone who tells you they didn’t have a hard time transitioning is wearing some very fiery pants indeed. Everything about the first month, even first semester or year of college is a giant, awkward mess. You get lost on campus, you lock yourself out of your room in only a towel, you sleep right on through the fifty alarms you set, you lose your campus ID, and you spend every last, darned penny you saved on textbooks. (Yes, I did do all of these things). But that’s the beauty of it. Every experience is completely different from what everyone prepared you for, so you learn how to adapt. How to embrace the awkward or cringe-worthy or oh-so-freshmen things you’ll inevitably do. How to be a kindergartner again by not being so self-aware all of the time and just walking up to someone and asking if they’ll be your friend (or whatever the college equivalent to that is, though that works just fine).
If you don’t have the best group of friends yet, if your workload has slapped you square in the face, if you miss home and you’re starting to believe you weren’t cut out for this college deal, then you’re doing just fine. Join too many clubs, take advantage of unlimited meal plans, sleep in later than ever before, and just let everything else fall into place on its own. Because despite what you may be thinking, it will.
