For as long as I can remember, I thought that I had to go to college outside my hometown or else I would live the rest of my life with regret. I love Fort Wayne, don’t get me wrong, but in my head I thought that staying in Fort Wayne wouldn’t satisfy me. So, instead of weighing all of my options for college, I only gave myself two; Penn State, or IU. IPFW was never even on my radar. I thought that going away for college would be the only way to experience it the right way, and even though I didn’t want to go to IU, I went.

Slowly I realized that I was falling in love with the college I swore to hate. The people I met were incredible and I was hypnotized by the grandeur of the school itself. I was on a high and couldn’t come down. I began to realize that my aversion to attending IU was misplaced. Whenever I would come home for break and people would ask me how I was liking college I’d say, “I didn’t think I would ever say this, but I’m having the time of my life at IU.”

When summer break came around and I had to say goodbye to the friends and memories I had made there, I couldn’t believe that I was actually going to miss Indiana University. All summer I couldn’t wait to return to the cream and crimson I knew and loved. Plus, I would be living off campus in a real house with a real shower and a real kitchen! I knew that it would be even better than my freshman year. Yet, weeks after the semester started, I looked in the mirror and realized just how unhappy I was.

I didn’t want to go out. I spent more time in my room than I did anywhere else. I was a shell of my usual happy self. I found myself breaking down at random moments of the day, even walking to class. Suddenly, my thoughts would turn sad and then I’d be crying while walking to Spanish class. I had no idea what was wrong with me, and it was terrifying. I had always been the girl who had her crap together. I had been the one to comfort others, not the one that needed comfort. The worst part was, in reality, my life was pretty darn great. I had landed an incredible internship with a local attorney, I was working and making money, and I was living with my best friends, so why did I feel so lost and alone? I should have been having the time of my life, yet I found myself longing to be anywhere but where I was. My emotions weren’t my own and I felt so helpless in my own skin.

IU used to be my home away from home, but now it was just away from home. It finally got to the point where I considered transferring schools. All around me people were telling me what they thought I should do and how this or that decision would be the wrong one. I was told that going home would be me giving up. That hit me hard. I couldn’t even begin to explain how I felt because I didn’t even know how to explain it to myself. I felt like I had to convince everyone else around me that one decision or the other was best, and if I didn’t, everyone would be disappointed in me for “losing myself.” When in reality, I was already lost. Natalie wasn’t Natalie anymore. I needed to find a way to get back to the happy, determined, unbreakable person I was before.

My heart told me that going home would be the first step in getting myself back, yet my head told me to stay at IU and deal with it. IU offered me so many opportunities I didn’t think I would be able to have in Fort Wayne, and I was so used to only thinking about the future and what I had to do to set my path ten years from now, that I didn’t know how to think about how to get better right now. I thought it was wrong for me to only focus on what I needed right now and that it would somehow ruin everything I’d worked so hard for. I was also worried that everyone would look at me differently, like I had lost all of my strength. So when I was told that by going home, I would no longer be Natalie and that I would be giving up, it hurt, because I was already a wreck. I was already terrified that I was losing myself and that others would judge me for finally needing the comfort of others. That comment rationalized those fears.

I decided that I had to stay. My step dad had told me that once I made my decision, that I would probably feel a small sense of relief, and he was right, I did -- for a minute. I made my decision, and I was determined to stand by it, no matter how miserable I was. Christmas break rolled around and being home felt like being pulled onto dry land after drowning in the sea. I felt like myself, or at least, as close to myself as I thought I would ever be again. I woke up in the morning without this crushing weight on my chest, and the spontaneous tears ceased. Everyone around me took note to how big of a change they saw in me. People would ask me if I was sure about my decision to return to IU, and I would say, “I’m as sure as I can be. I think I need to do it.” I had said it so many times I had started to believe I was going back for me.

In reality, I was doing it for every reason besides the one that mattered. I was doing it because someone had told me that I wouldn’t be strong if I came home. I was doing it because, no matter how many times my parents told me they would support me no matter what, I didn’t want to disappoint the people who sacrificed so much for me my entire life. I was doing it because I didn’t want to be "that girl” who had to come home. I felt like a hypocrite, because for so long I would tell people, “I would never go home.” Yet, here I was, crying inside while I tried to convince myself that staying at IU was what I HAD to do in order to be strong and successful.

I was all packed to go back. I had shoved my fears and sadness deep inside myself and was determined to not have a mental breakdown before even going back. Yet, as it got closer and closer to my departure time, the knot in my chest and stomach got bigger and bigger. I began to panic. I didn’t want to go back. I knew it then and I didn’t know what to do. I felt trapped. It took a two-hour breakdown, and some support from the family, but I finally said the words out loud, “OK, I’m going to stay.” I can’t even put into words the relief I felt at saying those words out loud. Suddenly, all of the panic that had built up inside my stomach subsided. I still wasn’t whole, but I was rebuilding.

The next two weeks were full of the same questions about why I transferred and what happened. I wasn’t exactly embarrassed, but I wasn’t exactly ready to have to explain myself to everyone, just yet. I started at IPFW and I couldn’t believe how excited I was about my classes each day. I loved being able to raise my hand in a 30-person lecture and for my voice to actually be heard. I loved lunches after class with the friends I had known since the second grade. I realized that I had limited myself so much by thinking that IPFW wasn’t a “big” enough school for me. I had been so convinced that I had to get out of Fort Wayne in order to find myself and be successful, that I had closed doors for myself.

Transferring schools didn’t make me weak, it made me strong. It made me realize that I can’t plan out my future five years in advance and expect it to go as planned. That it's OK to focus on my feelings now instead of pushing through. It made me realize that yes, people are going to ask questions about your actions, but the only opinions that matter are the ones of the people who love and care about you. I realized that doing what was best for myself was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make, and at my lowest point, I was still able to move past. I never thought I'd say this -- but I'm a Don now, and I'm loving every minute of it.