The past three years in writing and editing for Her Campus, I’ve enjoyed writing short and sweet, relatable, easy-to-read articles that I can not only share with my friends and family, but also the world on the internet. Being involved with Her Campus gave me a chance to express myself in a way that biomechanics and tissue engineering courses couldn’t, all the while providing me with a sense of community, not only on campus, but also through the community Her Campus fosters on Instagram. I can’t believe this is my last article, ever!
But this article isn’t entirely about my end as a Her Campus member, it’s also about the untimely and sharp end to my experience at college and time spent with college friends. In mid-March, I came back from my spring break trip in the early evening, on a Friday. We had learned during our trip classes would be online for a while in order to slow the spread of the virus. That day we came back, my dad and I spoke briefly on the phone and we decided it would be best if I came home, despite my pleading to stay. By Sunday, my dad had driven the 11 hours to come pick me and all of my belongings up, and by Monday we were driving past the Arch. Those two days went by in a whirlwind. All of my friends, bless them, came to the apartment I shared with a friend, and we all just spent time together. We got brunch, drinks, and dinner all together, cried, and said our goodbyes. I think the worst part about leaving your friends in college, especially prematurely, is you have no idea when you’ll see them again. They say the friends you make in college are some of the closest friends you’ll ever make because you’re with them all the time – you eat with them, study with them, shower in the shower room with them, get coffee with them. Going to college 11 hours from home, I needed my college experience to feel like a second home. To the friends I made, thank you, I love you guys, you have truly made SLU feel like home.
Once the reality of truly leaving campus for the last time set in (somewhere in Ohio I think, as I was eating a Chipotle bowl in the car), I suddenly realized my new reality: living at home while being a full-time college student with my parents and two younger siblings for at least the next few months, something I hadn’t done since the summer after my freshman year. And I’m not going to lie, it wasn’t easy. I missed having my own room and space, going grocery shopping, having the library to study at, and just so many other things. But, something about being home and not being able to leave sparked something in my brain to use my time unlike I had been before. I started taking walks with my sister and a friend/neighbor, something I rarely did, but I found I really enjoyed the fresh air and stretching my legs – especially when I wasn’t speed walking to a class I was running late to. I bought a Kindle and started reading more (and supporting my local library system!), another thing that I rarely got a chance to do and loved every minute of it (my list of  “to read” books on my Notes app wasn’t going to read itself!). I ate dinner with my family more, something I really took for granted in high school, and didn’t realize I missed. My sister and I even found the energy to clean out and rearrange our shared closet.
So yes, thank you Coronavirus, for bringing a bitter, premature, and sad end to my college. But somehow you managed to redeem yourself, allowing me to slow down a little bit and do things that bring me joy and haven’t had time to do in a long time.
Thank you SLU, for being the best, most welcoming, and most home-like campus I could’ve ever imagined. To my hometown friends, when we can again, we are going to brunch and getting drinks and hiking and taking day trips to Canada and literally doing everything we can here because I will be the first I admit I took it for granted. To my college friends, you guys are the best, and are going to do amazing things! I promise I will see y’all soon.Â
I don’t want to end this on such a mopey note – it’s admittedly hard not to – so, I just want to remind you that with every ending, a new beginning starts. Â