Taking the plunge
by Ali Gray Aug 13, 2003
Shoveling through the piles of clothes strewn across my carpet, I try to decide which items are a necessity for college life and which can be safely left behind. My matching towel set is in a separate pile, along with my new size extra long bed sheets. I tape up one box after another, strategically planning out my dorm room in my mind. Despite the unrelenting task at hand, packing is not the most pressing issue on my mind. It’s that this 18-year-old girl who can’t even do her own laundry is being pulled from the comforting constraints of living at home. Of course, it happens to every high school senior. After roughly three months of celebrating graduation, it comes time to move on. However, after living in Carmel for the vast majority of my life, I am feeling slightly anxious about moving 800 miles away. Now add to that stress the fact that I am making the transition completely on my own. Most of my high school friends are following suit and attending Indiana University or Purdue. They will have each other to lean on during the first few weeks as well as the convenience of a short trip home on weekends. However, with my plans to attend the University of North Carolina, my plane tickets home will be used sparingly. From the moment I started high school I’ve been preparing for college. It was always about taking the right classes, visiting campuses and filling out applications. And, of course, there was plenty of time spent envisioning the utopia of college life. I fantasized about the never-ending frat parties, cute upperclassmen and the absence of a curfew. I even occasionally thought about studying and attending classes. However, I never thought it would come this quickly. With my departure only weeks away, I’m suddenly realizing how unprepared I actually am. Attending college out of state was always something I wanted to do. Although there are plenty of satisfactory schools in Indiana, I never felt that they were for me. I was eager to make my own path and experience something new. I always wanted to challenge myself by traveling out of my comfort zone. That was exactly why I initially did not want to go to UNC. My oldest sister recently graduated from that university, and I saw that as a drawback. I wanted to avoid following in her footsteps as much as possible. However, I eventually decided that I was fortunate to have the opportunity to study at the best journalism school in the country, and I could easily make the experience my own. I embraced the idea and am now thrilled to become a Tarheel. In my final weeks of summer I’m now feeling compelled to spend as much time with my friends as possible. Of course, I’ll miss my family when I’m at school, but I can count on those relationships to stay constant. It’s my friends I have to worry about. I know I’ll go away to school and build a new life for myself. Hopefully, I’ll make all new friends and have the cliched “best four years of my life,” but I will still return home for vacations and summers. It scares me to think of breaking the ties it took almost two decades to create. I am also now making note of all the luxuries I take for granted. I will no longer come home to after-school snacks or have my mom call to make sure I wake up in time to get to work. I won’t be able to rely on my dad to come pick me up when I run my jeep out of gas. I will have to give up my own shower and bedroom, as well as most of my privacy. I’ll have to motivate myself to go to class when I could just as easily stay in bed. And I’ll have to convince myself to stay in and cram occasionally, even if it means missing the pajama party at the coolest fraternity on campus. Most incoming freshmen experience many of the same concerns. They wonder how they’ll balance their time and whether or not they’ll get homesick. They question the pros and cons of going Greek. They worry about budgeting their money, getting around campus, choosing the right major and what to do when they get sick. These are all issues that have been spinning through my mind. However, I know I’ll deal with each matter as it arises. I’m beginning to realize that it’s OK to not be completely prepared, because I know that no one really is. As I hold up my suede coat, deciding whether or not I’ll really need it this winter, Mom walks in my bedroom. Silently, she perches on the edge of my bed and I notice tears forming in her eyes as she watches me pack. Normally, I wouldn’t think twice about this coming from the woman who cries over television commercials. In fact, since I happen to be the youngest of three girls, my entire senior year seemed to be a sobfest for my mother. She saw each defining moment (prom, graduation, etc.) as a closing door. However, this time as I look up at her I feel a wave of emotion. “I’m sorry, honey,” she says. “It’s just that I can’t imagine what I’ll do with none of my girls around.” I hardly ever cry, but suddenly I feel tears in my own eyes as well. As I reach over to give my mom a hug, I wonder who this transition is really the hardest on.
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