Advice for the secluded caterpillar, not the social butterfly
I think there’s a stigma in our culture surrounding the college life that makes it seem like every person’s dream. After all, what teenager doesn’t want to move out of the house, meet new friends, make their own schedule, and get away from their parents, right? Now don’t get me wrong, these new experiences are fun and exciting, but they are often quite terrifying for some people as well. And if you’re anything like me, then as a freshman you learn painfully quick just how terrifying these new experiences can be.
It’s hard when you’re no longer surrounded by the people and teachers you loved in high school; it’s hard when the only time you hear your mom’s voice is through a phone; it’s hard when you can’t find a private place to cry because you live in a room shared with five people.
It’s even harder when you’re surrounded by people in a place that exuberates what I call the “Happy People Propaganda”. You see it everywhere: smiling faces, long speeches about why this college is so much fun, and posters with happy college students who look like they have everything figured out.
I know for me, an introvert who’d never been away from home for more than a few days, this produced the crushing feeling that I didn’t belong.
I was, initially, very excited about going to college. I had all these plans in mind about how I was going to decorate my room, join some clubs, attend the big sporting events, and enjoy my time here. But the night my family left, that dream came crashing down. Now, it wasn’t that I had been left completely alone in this new and unfamiliar place. To be honest, there wasn’t a lot I could complain about. I had an old family friend living here in Phoenix who promised to look after me and introduced me to some new friends at her church. Some of my best friends from high school were also attending here; I was blessed with five wonderful roommates, and I ended up loving all my professors. I had everything I could have needed, but it didn’t feel that way.
It was hard for me to watch my roommates say casual goodbyes to their parents, hug them, watch them leave the room, then move on like everything was fine. I, on the other hand, was an emotional wreck on the verge of a meltdown my first few days here. I tried to distract myself the day after my parents left with anything I thought would make me feel that excitement again. I kept unpacking, decorating my room, even sang along to my favorite worship songs throughout the day, but nothing really helped. I ended up breaking down in front of my life leader after desperately trying to hold it in. It wasn’t until after a good talk with my family friend that night (and breaking down in front of her too), that I finally began to feel better. She had experienced similar feelings her first year of college, and her encouragement assured me that I was not as alone as I felt.
But even after that, I don’t think my loneliness without my family ever left, and I was constantly reminded I was the only one who felt that way. I didn’t see anyone else calling their mom once (or twice) every day, or anyone else who felt uncomfortable in large group settings. I fooled myself before, thinking that I would enjoy being busy with clubs, sporting events, or other activities once the school year started. It turns out, all I really wanted to do was get my homework done and get good grades. But this desire is what drove me into a rhythm, one of the main reasons I eventually found joy during my freshman year.
I began to plan out my days: when I would get up, where and when I would eat, where I would do my homework and for how long. I got into this rhythm, and I got comfortable, eventually adjusting to life away from home where before I had thought it was impossible. I also began to find things I did enjoy: walking while listening to music, going to life group, watching movies with my roommates, and even just going to get my usual order at Qdoba.
This didn’t make my bad feelings go away entirely, but it did help me adjust.
I ended up enjoying the remainder of my time during freshman year, even if I wasn’t completely convinced I would come back. But when it came down to it, I was crying when I left too because I wouldn’t see my roommates everyday anymore.
I don’t have the magic answer for surviving freshman year as an introvert; I only have what I know worked for me: make a schedule that works for you and find things that you enjoy doing, whether by yourself or with other people. Eventually, you’ll find yourself wanting to participate more in activities you see others doing.
If you’re shy and reserved now, you need to know that college will change you. This year I’ve found myself willing to be involved in more things than just homework. I’ve gotten a job, am involved in several clubs, and I still try to make time for personal activities.
You must also accept the fact that you are not like other people. I used to hate myself for it, but now I own that fact and accept it’s a part of who I am. You and I may never be like everyone else here, and that’s fine. You’ll find your place if you give it time.