Big changes are scary.
When I started college, I had an overbearing boyfriend, a super critical roommate, no idea what to do with my life, and lived in a dorm in which I was (practically) the only gal who opted out of Greek life. You can imagine how popular that made me with my neighbors.
The roommate made things really hard. She bragged about never having had a zit while simultaneously mocking my hair (neither straight nor blonde) and my car (as I gave her rides to the airport). Magical. If nothing else, I learned a lot about people.
I was anxious so much of the time that first year away from home. Worried about what others thought. Worried about fitting in. In hindsight, it was ridiculous.
The beauty of undergrad is that during those four years, you grow up. At least mostly. I was lucky enough to find my best friends, discover the perfect career, and meet my fantastic husband. The older I get, the more I’m grateful for those yucky experiences. Also grateful they were short-lived.
Thanks for letting me get that off my chest.
My cousins Alex and Conner are heading off for their freshman years of college this week and my mind keeps flitting back to my first few months of college. Alex will be in Columbia at USC, so he’ll be nearby and he will be hearing from his annoying cousin Liz. Maybe he needs a giant tin of cookies to start the year off right.