At the beginning of my senior year, I became infatuated with a university that I felt was wholly out of my league.

Prestigious, yet hidden, Wake Forest boasts small classes with a multitude of resources available to its students. It acknowledged my own opinion that school wasn't just about the one thing you choose to major in, but rather each class you take having importance in shaping the person you would become. It was perfect- it seemed.

I spent months working on my applications to there and six other schools, hours writing essay after essay, perfecting words that would best introduce me to an admissions board.

Then months waiting. Wondering. Neglecting to think about making decisions and choices that would change the course of my life forever.

I was accepted to UW first. This, ironically, by March of my senior year was the acceptance I spent the most time worrying about. It was a chance to keep my life vaguely familiar while still going away- and a way to get a great education for more than half the price.

So when I got the letter, I let myself forget about the dream of Wake Forest that burned so brightly inside me just months before. I bought UW t-shirts, followed the New Huskies hashtag, and let myself get excited along with everyone else.

I told myself that I wouldn't get into Wake, that I wasn't quite good enough, and UW was good enough for me.

And then...

Perched in my friends car in my UW t-shirt- no less; we drive on I-5 and I am looking out at UW from the freeway, dreaming about what I thought might be my new home. My mom calls. I answer, confused, and she just says

"I got the mail."

I say "yes," confused about what she could possibly be insinuating.

"I got the mail," she says.

Oh.

I can hear a catch in her voice as she says the three words I cannot tell if I am hoping for or not-

"You got in."

To say that I was surprised was an understatement. I didn't quite know how to react, and spent the rest of my day between fits of shock and fear. Fear of moving almost three thousand miles away. Fear of how much that would change. Fear that it would be the wrong decision.

The envelope, appropriately branded with the phrase: 'Warning: opening this envelope could change everything' taunted me from its perch on the kitchen counter.

That Monday I spoke to my most trusted teacher, someone who had talked me through much of my senior year. And he gave me one piece of advice that I would never forget. He told me to choose the place that I would always think of even if I went to the other. He assured me that both had equally unique opportunities, and I had to make the choice that felt right in my gut.

I surprised myself.

I thought if I got into my so called "dream school," that there would be no other thought in my mind. But UW just kept coming back to me. It was the school I felt in my gut, the one I knew I would miss.

I have had a rough freshman year. Nothing was as perfect as I had hoped it would be, because, well, life isn't perfect. There have been days when all I could wish for was a chance to go back in time and change the decision I made a year ago.

But then there are the days when I know I am in the right place- when I marvel at the beauty of UW's campus, when people ask where I attend and I respond with pride, when I meet new people and friends who have changed my life for the better. I am lucky to be a Husky. And though my life would be hugely different three thousand miles away, I think I like it just the way it is.

When choosing which college to attend, you can't make a wrong choice because the choice is yours.

Make the right one, for you.