In a year where toilet paper is a hot-commodity and hugs are dangerous, craziness is at an all-time high. Every day I am surprised by something new and absurd. But when I found out I’d be moving into college for the first time— totally unaccompanied by anyone I love— that was a whole new level of shock.
I’m super close with my family (my mom especially) so when we found out that she wouldn’t be able to move me in we were absolutely devastated. We understood Northeastern’s utmost concern for health and safety, but we couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of loss. Who was going to help me make my bed? Who was going to hang up my clothes in the undersized closet? Who was going to sit on my bed with me after we finished unpacking to take a “Just Moved My First Kid Into College!” quintessential family picture? Moving in alone— while altogether necessary— was something I never imagined I’d have to do. The idea of starting a new life away from everything and everyone you’ve ever known (even if for me that new life was just roughly forty-five minutes away) is scary. And the idea of doing that alone? Absolutely terrifying. All summer long my mom and I went dorm shopping and packed my clothes together, envisioning the end result together too. It was always “when we get there…” and “on move-in day we can…” never just I. If I couldn’t have my dad there, who would lift all the stuff that was too heavy for me? If I couldn’t have my sister there, who would help me decorate and make my room feel like my one at home? And if I couldn’t have my mom there then forget it, because I knew I’d be an emotional mess already.
Well, move-in day came, and right along with it was all of my anxiety. We pulled up to the dorm building and I swear I didn’t even have time to blink before the Husky Move Support team attacked and unloaded my entire car. (This was potentially the only upside to the situation because on our own we would have definitely needed to make at least four trips… maybe five.) After all of my personal belongings disappeared behind the large glass doors that I would soon come to use 20+ times a day, it was time to say goodbye. Goodbyes are for sure the hardest part, even if they’re only temporary. I remember walking away from my family towards my new home, feeling like a rubber band being stretched too far. I was getting too far away from comfort and too far into the unfamiliar. I like to consider myself a largely independent young woman to begin with, but today, more than any day, I needed my family.
So naturally I FaceTimed my mom the second I stepped foot into my dorm. She was with me every step of the way —telling me where to start, giving me advice, and reminding me where I packed things— just virtually.
Moving in alone was scary, stressful, anxiety-inducing, and altogether quite the workout. But, moving in alone gave me a certain sense of “adultness” and responsibility that I knew would accompany college but that I didn’t know I would be forced to confront so soon. I felt in charge, designing a whole new living space for myself. It was sad without my family but once I got into a solid routine I felt empowered. After all, I was starting a new chapter completely on my own. So there I was, on my own, folding clothes and arranging throw pillows like nobody’s business. Moving in alone was definitely not the experience I pictured nor the experience I wanted, but maybe it was the experience I needed. I just hope that by the Spring my family will be able to help move me out because that is infinitely more work than I care to do alone.
