I was only seventeen when I was thrown into the whirlwind that is freshman year of college. Leading up to the start of college, every year of my life had served a purpose–thirteen was for exploring, fourteen was for surviving, fifteen was for rebelling, sixteen was for screwing everything up, and seventeen was for finding peace. As I geared up for college, I thought eighteen would be the year of freedom, fun, and adventure. I was ready for new friends, new experiences, and new responsibilities.
Instead, for most of eighteen, it felt like my life was falling apart.
I entered adulthood near the end of my first quarter of college, which had already proved to be a bit of a disaster — my childhood dog died, my situationship crashed and burned, and I felt the stress of a packed schedule starting to weigh on me.Â
When winter break rolled around, I thought a new age and new quarter would give me a fresh start. But just before the start of winter classes, my health took a turn, and I wasn’t able to come back. I spent most of the quarter at home or in the hospital. I fell behind in classes, couldn’t finish out the season with my college cheer team, and nearly had to withdraw from school.Â
My life was put on hold, and everything I had worked so hard for was crashing down around me. I was devastated.
When I was finally healthy enough to return to school, I had to rebuild from the ground up, and I mean that in every sense of the phrase. My perfect vision of freshman year had been thrown out the window, and all I could do was try to salvage the remnants of what was supposed to be the best year of my life.
It wasn’t until that moment that I realized just how much I had gained from my short time in college. It was my roommates who nursed me back to health, my professors who made every possible accommodation for me to succeed, and my sorority sisters who supported me every step of the way, that showed me just how strong of a support system I had built.
Slowly but surely, I picked up the pieces of my life. I got back on track academically, put my cheer shoes back on, and lived out the rest of the school year filled with all of the vibrance and joy that I had envisioned for myself.
Despite the bumps in the road, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. The past year has been the hardest year of my life, but it was also by far the best. Looking back, I had a lot of growing up to do, and even though it felt like I had lost everything, those experiences allowed me to grow into the person I am today.Â
As I turn the page and enter a new year of my life, I am grateful for eighteen. It might not have been picture perfect, but it was exactly what I needed — eighteen was for starting over.