Nostalgia blah blah blah.
I am done with my freshman year of college. Insert nostalgia, blah blah bullshit here. I’ve realized that the person I was in February is vastly different than the person I am this lovely, sticky May. Or perhaps the person I am now is just more authentic and outspoken about who she actually is— someone who cares, who’s a little neurotic, a little too polite, and prickly but a girl who also needs love.
One of my guy friends told me that before I started hanging out with a fraternity on campus, I was in my own box. I tried not to let anyone into my thoughts— so much so that I came across as cold and unfeeling to most people.
What I’ve discovered (finally) is that people like me for being warm and sometimes silly. They even don’t mind when I’m neurotic and tell pointless stories. Since I’ve been around this group of people, I’ve felt no need to hide the fact that, yes, I love Disney movies. I enjoy radio/dubstep/dance music immensely. I’ve even begun liking musicals. I have good friends who I can be boring with. I’m allowed to make silly faces and sing silly songs without being judged. If I get drunk, people take care of me and hug me lots (‘cause I’m a touchy feely drunk).
My freshman year has mostly been about balance and honesty. Maybe that’s a backwards concept compared to most peoples’ ideas of the start of college, but it’s (happily) how mine has gone. I’ve been easier on myself because people made me realize that I need to be to survive in this world. I’ve learned to be more honest about myself with people because, in Sally Field’s words, “you like me, you really, really like me!”
I don’t have to come across as cool and collected all the time. If I eat some dessert every now and again, it won’t kill me. I don’t have to apologize for everything. And I like that. It’s been a grand freshman year, and I am so very glad that I happened upon a little white house on a February afternoon. It’s made all the difference.
