It seems as if the previous eight years of my life were all preparation for a single moment, that single moment on Aug. 29, 2015, that single moment I was so extremely unprepared for.

I feel like a huge portion of growing up is constantly looking forward to that next fraction of your life. In middle school you look forward to getting your first phone, getting that first kiss from your crush, getting those horrific braces off, etc. In high school, you anxiously wait to go to your first high school party, get your license, finish applying for college, prom, etc. I clearly remember waiting anxiously for all these moments in my life, but there is absolutely nothing I was more anxious for than that very moment on Aug. 29, 2015, that very moment where I was finally independent, that very moment where I could start fresh, that very moment of the beginning of the next four years of my life, that very moment of the first day of college.

There is nothing I wanted more than to go to college. Don’t get me wrong -- I loved my friends, my school and my town, but I just had a longing for something new. I wanted to meet new people and I wanted to learn new things. Hearing so many stories about people’s college experiences, seeing everyone’s social media, watching different movies, etc. just all made me so excited. I waited anxiously for the school year to end, attempting to enjoy and cherish my last year with the people I’d grown up with, but struggling because of my craving to get the hell out of this town and go to college.

I genuinely enjoyed the summer with my friends and family, but I constantly found myself checking the countdown on my phone that read “Boston University” with a bunch of exciting and obnoxious emojis. The summer flew by and before I knew it, it was Aug. 28, the day before the big day. My mom threw a huge going away party with my entire family and my closest friends. The night consisted of good-byes, advice from my aunts about safe sex and taking shots of vodka (I’m Russian, if that didn’t give it away). The good-bye with eight of my nine best friends (one of them was going to BU with me) was truly a hard one. We cried until we had no tears left and stood in the middle of the street in a group hug for a long time, not saying anything but taking in each other’s presence. It was sincerely a good night, but I still found myself eager for that next day to come already.

I woke up on Aug. 29, 2015, with my heart racing from excitement; today marked the day of the beginning of a new stage in my life. I helped my dad load the car with my obnoxious amount of suitcases, and before I knew it we were off to Boston. I took one look at my house through the back window of my car, and the sudden feeling of sadness arose but was quickly overcome by my excitement and anxiousness. This was it -- I couldn’t turn back now.

Honestly, the excitement and anticipation of move-in day was a blur. My parents moved me in and we went to lunch with Brooke (my best friend that was also starting at BU) and her parents. We finished lunch and headed back to my dorm, where I knew the anticipated “first good-bye” was about to occur. I hugged my two brothers, my dad, my grandma and lastly my mom, who wet my shirt with her tears. I was upset but I didn’t cry. It still hadn’t hit me yet. I walked back into my dorm with a smile on my face, thrilled that this moment that I had been waiting for for years was finally occurring.

No one warned me that this was going to be the last time I smiled for months. No one warned me that the next 4 months were going to be the most difficult, emotionally draining and grueling months of my life.

Looking back now, I can honestly see how naïve and unprepared I was. My first semester of college was the polar opposite of what I expected it to be. I expected to meet countless new friends, to do well in school and, most importantly, I expected that the distance between home and school wouldn’t take a toll on me. I would soon learn that it is imprudent to have such high expectations for unknown territory.

I am writing this article because I want prospective students to get something I never got: an accurate warning that college is something you absolutely cannot prepare for until you have actually experienced it.

Meeting new people was always an easy task for me; at least that’s what I thought. They say you meet your bridesmaids at college, which is why I was confused when I was one month into school and only had three friends, one of them being Brooke, my already best friend. I constantly found myself comparing new people to my best friends from home, and nobody compared. I missed my group of friends so much it hurt, and instead of spending nights hanging out with girls on my floor, I found myself FaceTiming my friends or making jokes in our group chat.

I couldn’t imagine the thought of replacing the girls who I had grown up with my whole life, the girls who knew me more than I knew myself. And it bothered me to have basic conversations with people (e.g., where are you from, what’s your major, do you have any siblings), when I knew I could simply type in my group chat and have a real conversation or reminisce about old times with Brooke.

Additionally, no one prepared me for the moment when I received my first grade back on my Chemistry exam. It was a 55. I was so used to getting A’s and being at the top of my class; I was not prepared for the surreal truth that college is hard as f*ck, and that you can study for five days in a row and still completely bomb an exam. It was just so degrading knowing that I was putting all my effort in and not getting the results back in return; I felt stupid, inadequate and almost like I didn’t belong.

Lastly, no one prepared me for the actual feeling of living in a place that isn’t home. The first month of college, all I wanted to do was just go home. The girl who was anxiously waiting for years for this opportunity. I clearly remember the first two weeks of college; I would wake up and immediately have a breakdown when I realized I wasn’t waking up in my bed, and I was waking up in an uncomfortable dorm room bed, soaked in sweat because the room was 200 degrees. I missed home more than words can describe, but the worst part was, I couldn’t even show it. I continually lied to my parents and friends, making it seem like I was enjoying myself, when in reality I was slowly wilting on the inside. As the girl who was looking forward to college more than anyone, I couldn’t not like it; I just couldn’t.

My best friend Brooke was having an extremely rough time, too, but I had to put on a brave face for her; I needed to be strong to show her that she could be strong too. So as she would cry to me, I would sit there and console her, telling her everything was going to be OK, praying that if I said it over and over it would become true.

No one prepares you for that transition period between living in a place of comfort and getting thrown out in the world by yourself. I think the hardest part of the transition period for me was convincing myself that college is about accepting the fact that you are not in your comfort zone anymore. You are not surrounded by familiar faces when you walk the streets, you are not surrounded by your mother’s home cooked meals and, most importantly, you are not surrounded by the constant support and care of your loved ones. You are by yourself. However, something I didn’t realize was that you are by yourself in a community where so many individuals are going through the same exact thing as you.

College was a huge wake up call for me, and the first legitimate change I had to undergo in my life. My first semester of college was the most difficult period of my life, but in the process I learned a great deal about myself. I learned never to take anything for granted, like those nights with your best friends where you sit in a basement for hours doing absolutely nothing, or that kiss from your dad that you embarrassingly wipe away. And most importantly, I learned the importance of getting out of my comfort zone and embracing the opportunities handed to me.

I sit here writing this article as a warning, but also as a message. The first semester of college is going to be tough and unexpected, but it is also going to be an essential part of your transition into adulthood, and as corny as that sounds, its true. This process will help you realize that, in order to survive and flourish, you need to adapt. You need to adapt to a new environment and embrace the opportunities it provides you with, but don’t forget where you came from in the process.

Sitting here writing this article as a second-semester freshman, I am proud to say that if I got through it, so can you. It took me a while, but I learned to adapt.

I realized I would never find friends that are the same as my friends from home -- so I made new, different friends. And I can honestly say that the friends I have made thus far are absolutely amazing. I will definitely have a place for them in my bridal party.

I realized my true potential as a student, and learned the status quo of college education. I studied my ass off and made the Dean’s List, proving to myself that I did belong, and that I am capable.

And lastly, I realized the importance of creating a community for myself, and a home away from home. So I joined a sorority, and it was one of the best decisions of my life; the girls are genuine and they want to get to know me -- something I was not used to as a first-semester freshman.

Looking back at that first day on Aug. 29, 2015, it's quite funny to think how unprepared I was. But it’s also quite amazing to think how far I’ve come. They say college changes you, and it does, but not necessarily in a bad way. It makes you dig deeper, and it shows you that you can exceed your potential. College is an unforgettable experience that I am just beginning to embark on; it just took me a few months to realize it.