Maybe it was naivety or plain delusion, but as the summer months passed and my move-in date approached, I felt ready.Â
I knew several people going to UF, I had visited the town before, and I was staying in-state. Compared to my friends who were moving time zones, I had an easy transition ahead of me.Â
I thought rationally. I knew I would miss my family, but I also knew I would see and talk to them often. I knew my classes would be hard, but I was prepared to work. When August 16 arrived, there was no fear or overexcitement; just preparedness.
My confidence was proven premature within a week. I missed my family more than I thought I could endure. I missed my friends, my dogs and my bed. I missed my routine and not feeling behind or insufficient or judged. I missed the time when I thought I could handle it all. I felt so much smaller than the summer version of me.Â
A rational part of my brain tried to tell me that it would all be okay, but the rest refused to listen.Â
To put it plainly, the change was overwhelming and confusing. I had been excited to get out of high school and to have a new start, but I missed the security. I thought I’d appreciate independence, but I wanted nothing more than to go back home and hug my mom. I was growing up, but all I wanted was to be a kid again.Â
I thought about moving back home. I thought about transferring schools. I examined every possible option, but the only one that appealed was going back in time. I realized there was no better alternative. There’s no way to make change easy.
It has now been a month and the fog of nostalgia, fear and dread has (somewhat) cleared. I no longer struggle to hide the cracks in my voice on the phone with my parents, and I’m no longer lying when I say I’m doing okay here.
My list of cons stopped growing and a list of pros developed. I can now easily solve math problems that would’ve stumped me a month ago, and I know more about architecture and film than I ever have. My roommate’s insistence on going to the gym (almost) every day and my perpetual status as a pedestrian have made me the strongest I’ve been in years. And I am proud to announce that I have made a friend, which, including my roommate, makes two whole friends.Â
It’s true that everything good comes at a price. I’m now 10 times the person I was before I moved, but a part of me is also gone. I still sometimes tear up when my family texts our group chat about something that no longer concerns me and I feel as if they’re moving on without me. And I still somehow simultaneously worry that I’m not going out enough and not studying enough and constantly feel behind everyone.Â
But I also know now that those feelings are inevitable, regardless of how much easier my situation is than others. I’ve learned that the key is acceptance: accepting that life has changed, that transitioning is difficult, but that everything will be okay.