Why College Move-in Day is More Than Unpacking for Me

August is almost over, and I will be taking my younger sibling to college.

This should be an exciting time.

But a pang of something inexplicable hit me.

Is it regret? Is it envy? No, it’s the deep realization of missed opportunities.

I remember hearing people say, “I hated college,” and I’d wonder how. How could someone hate a time meant for growth, self-discovery, and, of course, fun? But I get it now because I was one of them. But my disdain for college wasn’t based on the institution itself. It’s rooted in my own experiences, or the lack thereof.

While most of my peers lived in dorms, making memories in those narrow corridors, I was a commuter. Then again, so are most American students. But when someone thinks of what college is, they imagine the resident halls and common areas.

I wish I could say the same.

Graduating from high school felt like someone decided to throw me in the ocean without a life jacket. The sheer number of opportunities and choices was overwhelming. After the dust settled, I found myself with a full scholarship at my dream school.

A blessing, many said.

Yet, directionless, I began a descent into anxiety and depression. The tides pulled me further from my friends and family.

This initiated a long, often lonely journey through academia.

Resentment is a heavy emotion.

It’s the kind of emotion that has layers, shaped by years of what could’ve been.

Even now, as I sit with my peers, older and wiser, there’s an underlying current of envy. When they recount their college days, their stories are alive with nostalgia.

They are late-night coffee runs, forbidden frat parties, and dancing like there’s no tomorrow.

In contrast, my memories feel like an old, faded photograph.

The genesis of my complex feelings towards college traces back to my sophomore year.

It wasn’t the pressure of academics or the weight of expectations.

It was a debilitating battle with an undiagnosed chronic illness.

It was cruel taunting by bullies.

It was me closing in on myself.

I still remember the oversized hand-me-down green coat I’d wear.

It always pilled on the inside and had a persistent smell of mothballs.

It became both my shield and my identity.

On particularly lonely nights, I would have that coat wrapped around me like armor.

The fading light mirrored my fading hope as I headed towards the train station.

The melancholy of leaving campus, even one that harbored painful memories, always weighed on me.

They say adversity reveals character, but it can also mask it.

I distanced myself from my friends.

I thought that this would keep their social reputation intact.

Instead, I failed to maintain these friendships and thus felt more alone.

While most of my peers lived in dorms, building bonds that would last a lifetime, I found solace in my solitude.

But every journey, no matter how solitary, teaches us something.

My peers have their own stories of midnight escapades and dorm room shenanigans.

I learned resilience, the art of introspection, and the importance of seeking help and understanding.

My college days were not filled with fraternity parties.

But, they gave me a unique lens through which I now view the world.

College move-in day is a stark reminder of the paths I didn’t tread.

But it’s also a testament to the varied tapestry of experiences that make up the grand narrative of college life.

Unpacking boxes and setting up dorm rooms might be the start of many students’ adventures.

For others, like me, it’s a moment to reflect, reconcile with the past, and find hope in future chapters.

If you like this piece, please show your appreciation with claps, comments, and follows. Thank you again for reading ✨ and if you want, buy me a coffee ☕️ or matcha 🍵 with this link!