It's true, nothing can truly prepare you for your first year of college. You have different people giving you completely different (and sometimes contradictory) pieces of advice, and you are about to experiencing living on your own for the first time. It's one of the most transformative periods of life. But here's the thing about that, the difficulty of freshman year of college is universally known. The birds are leaving the nest, the new fish are coming in with wide hopeful eyes, and everyone gives them a break. Your parents still want to hold your hand, your professors understand your stress, and everyone is trying to make friends just as much as you are. So asking for an extra $25 for going out with new friends or asking for an essay extension is usually something quite doable as a freshman in college. The course load is new, but nothing too drastic, especially because most classes are introductory anyhow. So, freshman year is by no means easy, but then sophomore year comes.
The first TRUE year of being on your own.
Your parents are significantly less worried about you being on your own, your professors don't buy into excuses, people have found their groups of friends, and your classes begin to become more specific. After walking out of freshman year, I felt pretty confident about sophomore year- it can't be that much different right? Let me tell you, I was definitely not ready for what was about to happen. Now, hear me out, my sophomore year was in no way bad, I actually had a great year. But, I had to learn how to grow in so many incredibly different ways that I wasn't prepared for. Most of this came from the fact that my classes this year were definitely challenging. I was pretty much diving head first into content and projects I had absolutely no experience in. It wasn't necessarily that I felt like I was failing, but I just had zero confidence in all I was doing. How was I supposed to know if I was doing something right if I had no idea what right looked like? I was using professional camera equipment, performing Shakespeare, and attempting to master rolls in stage combat all on a typical Wednesday. Everything I was learning was fascinating and I was always so excited to work on new projects. It was the aftermath of these things that left me feeling unsettled. Was what I did up to par? Could you sense my inexperience through little things I wasn't aware of? I walked out of every class terrified that putting my heart and dedication into everything I was doing wasn't enough. But if it wasn't enough, what else was there to give? So, as if I didn't just make it clear, I'm a bit of a perfectionist. A perfectionist that has been able to live in her bubble of comfort all throughout her life in things she knew she was good at, never really being pushed further at a fast pace. Being able to steadily, carefully master new things to ensure that every little detail was perfect. So, here's a little analogy that may make no sense but bare with me. Imagine me- my whole life, on this bicycle with training wheels on it. After riding this bike with training wheels on it for a very long time, I learned how to ride that bike like nobody's business. Now, freshman year of college, the training wheels of my bike were removed. It was wobbly, I fell a few times, but there was always someone there to catch me anytime I needed it. Then sophomore year came around. I was then plucked from my bike, placed on a motorcycle and zoomed off before I knew what was happening. Okay, maybe that's a little dramatic, but you get what I mean. And though I found myself submerged in self doubt and chaos this year, looking back on it now, I can say I wouldn't trade any of it for the world. Because this year is the first time I've had to really accept that perfect doesn't exist. It never has and never will, and if I keep chasing this figment of my imagination called perfection I will never be truly happy with anything I do. I won't want to try anything new because I'm afraid I'll fail, and it wasn't until this year that I actually realized I had been living like that for as long as I can remember. I was forced to do completely new things this semester, and yeah, maybe I failed (still can barely do a roll, thanks stage combat) but I also realized that dwelling in my self doubt does absolutely nothing for me. Walking forward with my head turned behind me is just going to leave me walking in circles, and I'll be honest, I definitely found myself retracing my steps quite a few times this semester. But if I can do new things focusing on hopes of improvement as opposed to fear of failure, I can get a whole lot more done. So, thanks motorcycle, thanks sophomore year.
PS I'll probably think sophomore year was a cake walk after junior year- but we don't have to talk about that.
Thanks for reading
-Kait