It's been well over a year since the last time I wrote. I know — I left the stage in the middle of a song, and I kept you waiting to hear the final verse. But I'm back, and this time, for good. So let's catch up, shall we?
Last year was pretty amazing. For starters, I lived in a brand new, beautiful on-campus apartment with five other roommates, and we all got along very well, which was something I was incredibly worried about. After my sophomore year experience, I was terrified to live with even one roommate again, fearing that it would be a repeat of the previous year. But to live with five (5!!) other girls after that — well, that was just shock therapy. But somehow, it all worked. There was a good mix of personalities among the six of us, so we all balanced each other out. Even when two of my roommates left to study in Europe for the spring semester, we still got along just fine. Also in the spring semester, we got a new roommate, who was a student studying in America from South America; while I was worried about getting a new roommate halfway through the year, this also had a happy ending: we all got along great, and we still keep in touch.
Beyond the living situation, I also had a great year academically. I did well in all of my classes, and saw my passion for journalism grow stronger with each class I took. It's pretty much confirmed that I am head over heels, madly, passionately in love with journalism, so the world better watch out when I graduate, because I am ready to hit the ground running.
Somewhere in between getting to know my roommates and getting to practice my passions, I also had the chance to make some new friends and reconnect with old ones. I've made friends with students from all different years —from sophomore to senior — and I've had the pleasure of seeing some of them graduate and take on the real world. I even reconnected with those who came to this university with me from high school, which was a welcome bonus to the group of friends I've come to call home here. Oh, and remember by "best friend" with whom I had a falling out sophomore year? She and I also made up over the summer and are slowly reconnecting — something I never saw coming, but something that I am now grateful for.
So now you find me here. But where's here? Well, I'm a little over a quarter of the way done with my senior year of college. That's right — my last year of college. This year always seemed so far away, and honestly, I thought it would never arrive. But it's here now, and I am in the throws of it. And let me tell you, it's been nothing short of trying thus far.
For the first time ever in my college career, I am living with two of the same roommates for consecutive years (something I at first considered a win in my book). I moved in on Labor Day into an on-campus apartment that I wasn't thrilled with, only because that's where my roommates wanted to live; of course, if I was willing to live with them again, I would have to be willing to live in the apartment they set their sights on. And let's just say it's less than ideal. The building is old and is very far away from all of the major class buildings on campus — except for one, which happens to be where one of my roommates has most of her classes. The apartment has single rooms, which of course, are tiny and cramped. The air conditioning and heat controls have no off switches, so you will either freeze in the summer or broil in the winter. Oh, and let's not forget to mention that the kitchen is tiny, the front door has problems locking, and the shower is old and permanently stained.
My roommates themselves aren't much better; they still hold that freshmen year grudge against people who don't drink and frequent parties, and it's evident when they talk to me that I am considered "less than" for not participating in the standard college activities. Why not getting drunk is considered grounds for being discounted as a person worthy of attention and care, I am unsure; but apparently, in college, it is. One is also extremely pessimistic and domineering; last year, her darker humor was amusing because I had others that balanced out her personality. But now, she constantly asserts her point of view at the expense of silencing others — and that point of view is often very negative, which leaves me not wanting to talk to her sometimes because I know that not only will my voice not be heard, I will be told outright that my opinion is wrong, and her [negative] opinion is correct.
Don't get me wrong: I am grateful for the opportunity to attend college, so please do not mistake my descriptions as complaints — or worse — a lack of gratitude. To get to my senior year of college, to have the opportunity to receive an incredible education from teachers who truly care about their students has been one of the greatest gifts that life has given me.
However, I can't help but notice that my last year of school EVER isn't going quite as I'd hoped. Over the summer, I was prepared for a fun year with my roommates, looking to become even better friends with them than I was last year. I was hoping to truly enjoy every single thing about my final year of college. But I cannot say that I am.
Living in an apartment that I am not happy with, feeling like my roommates think less of me because I am not like them or because I don't do what they do is hard to handle every day. While what I am currently experiencing is less than ideal, I cannot help but think that my freshman-year self would not have been able to handle this. That girl would have cried, complained, and thrown in the towel after a few weeks, maybe a month at most. She would have taken her roommates' judgments to heart, let them minimize her and let them dictate how much worth she assigned to herself.
But I am no longer that girl. I am a young woman who has survived the homesickness of freshman year, battled through (and won) a toxic roommate situation sophomore year, and enjoyed a carefree junior year. I've learned, I've grown, and I've become a thick-skinned, impassioned woman who's begun to believe in herself, her abilities, and her value. Before, these circumstances would have beaten me. Now, these circumstances give me hope. They give me hope for a better life beyond the remainder of this year and well into my future.
While these things bother me at times, they are no more annoying than a fly that circles your face on a hot summer day: sometimes, it gets too close to you and bothers you enough to swat at it, but for the most part, it's not doing any harm. What they are doing, however, is giving me fuel. Fuel to build a life that I love. Fuel to support and encourage others and their differences. Fuel to give my life —my existence — a purpose that goes far beyond whatever job or career I happen to get.
What happens to me, what people say to me, or how people treat me today, tomorrow, or the rest of this year will not define the rest of my life; those things don't have that kind of power. What does have the power to shape the rest of my life is how I choose to play the hand I've been dealt — and let me tell you, I intend to win this.
And so I go forth, one more time, suited for battle. It may be the one of the most difficult battles I've fought thus far, but I've got history on my side — I haven't lost one yet.
Stay tuned, dear friends. Thanks for reading.
XO,
That University Girl
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