“How was first semester?”

Why is it that, depending on who asks the question, my answer is so different?

If it’s posited by relatives, first semester was good, overall, because things are better now than they were when I started; so why not just skip the details and end on a good note?

If it’s asked by my younger brother, first semester was a big change. Yes, you have more homework. No, having a single dorm doesn’t mean you don’t make any friends. Yes, sometimes I’m at the gym at midnight. No, I don’t go to frat houses…

And if you asked my therapist, I wouldn’t go so far as to say “hot mess” would be in her vocabulary, but she’d probably tell you that my first semester was a nothing short of an emotional roller coaster, complete with multiple e-visit calls from my dorm basement and a fun little desk lamp called an “existential crisis duck” (google it) as a birthday present from my mom.

But if I had the opportunity to answer the question “How was first semester?” honestly, without the constraint of socially-expected brevity of my response, I think my answer would go something like this:

The first two to three months of college were some of the most emotional times I’ve ever been through. I would spend the weekdays in class, learning my way around, and learning my routine, while my weekends were spent hiking to get me out of the dorm and off-campus not only because I wanted to explore the area around me, but also because I felt so trapped. I questioned daily why I had chosen Penn State, of all schools, and how I had wound up there when it had always been my LAST choice. I especially asked myself why I had limited my college search to only the New England area rather than looking out West. And some of it did have to do with my former boyfriend having moved out there to go to school a few months earlier, even though I knew that the last thing I wanted was to follow someone else’s path to college and that I didn’t want a relationship going into my first semester. But I think most of it was because I felt so lost in a place that looked and seemed so much like home. The dichotomy was too much for me; as soon as I stepped off campus, it was almost like I could have been in the woods at White Clay or Fair Hill. And for feeling so far away from the people who felt the most like home, it was indescribably misleading and crushing to almost feel tricked into believing I was still at home, given the scenery.

So, I began to convince myself that I would be happier, or maybe just more accepting of being in a new environment, if that environment did in fact look different than home. I began to consider transferring. I even looked so far as to find application deadlines for schools that I thought would make me feel less “at home” in that they were farther away but more “at home” in that they had endless, majestic mountains and wilderness a stone’s throw away from campus — something that had originally been a crucial part of my college search but had somehow seemingly been swept under the rug in the decision process. And not that State College doesn’t have its fair share of nature, but I’ve lived in Pennsylvania my whole life, and during those first few months of school, I wanted nothing more than to escape Pennsylvania in favor of indulging the wanderlust that has begun to grow uncontrollably within me.

Oregon State, Montana State, and University of Colorado, Boulder were all places I googled, but the funny thing looking back is that I didn’t even know what I was looking for in a different school. I knew Penn State’s love of football games, well-known affinity for parties, and loud school pride bothered me (and still do) because they made me feel like an outsider for disliking all of those things, but if I had been being honest with myself, I don’t know how changing my school would have solved the problem of feeling like an outsider. If anything, I think moving to another university where I still would have encountered all of those things would have made it so much worse when I finally looked up to realize that not only did I feel estranged and far from any feeling of home or stability, but that I really would have been, geographically, as well. And I think in my heart I knew that, but I felt like saying it or admitting it out loud after I had so seriously posed the idea of transferring to so many people made me seem like I was just looking for attention or that I couldn’t just be grateful to be in college at all. And I still struggle with that. Sometimes I think it’s almost like I try to make things feel more complicated just so people don’t assume everything is easy for me because I often feel like that’s the impression people had of me in high school. And maybe that’s dramatic or attention-seeking of me, but I think it stems from an underlying insecurity that I won’t be interesting or unique enough if I don’t manufacture some sort of complexity in a given situation. But in cases where I find myself feeling that way, it helps to remind myself (even though it’s easier said than done) that things don’t have to be really complex in order to feel scary or hard or intimidating or uncomfortable. And rather than avoiding that discomfort by distracting myself with wild convictions (no matter how tempting they may seem at the time) I need to sit back, take a deep breath, open my eyes, and allow myself to feel that pain and discomfort, and even more than that, to remind myself that I wouldn’t be feeling these things to begin with if I wasn’t so lucky to have people who make me feel loved, safe, and supported in the first place.

And so yeah, Penn State as a whole isn’t really my cup of tea. I went to one football game and hated it, drunk and high people make me anxious, and sometimes I swear if I hear one more “We Are” chant that I’m just going to drop out of college entirely. But when I look back on first semester, I realize that through everything, I’ve made a lot of happy memories and connections from within smaller, niche communities that I’d dare to say are much of the reason I’m still here at Penn State giving it a chance. The climbing wall and its community, the Penn State Outing Club and all its quirkiness, my Honors Engineering Design class and our incredible professor (and yes, even the Learning Factory)… In conjunction with my family and friends back home, all of these groups — alongside Dean Masters, Matt Parkinson, Anna, Cam, Joey, Greg, Katie, Aaftab, Steven, Preston, Kieran, JJ, Emma, Sagufta, Nora, Sophia, Baden, Mattias, Tate, Gothamie, Spencer, Marley, Caitlin, Amy, Alexa, Tyler, Brendan, Sam, Emily, Mike, Ashley, Sophia, McKenna, Veneta, Ben, Mable, Jack, Darren, Alex, Julianne, Taylor, and so many others — have helped me remember this semester that connection is what drives us all and makes life worth living. And that even though those connections and relationships can sometimes be what cause the most pain, it is choosing to love anyway that is true strength and vulnerability. Acknowledging the pain that comes with loving life and other people that passionately, fully, and openly is one of the most difficult things I continue to experience, but each and every time, I feel all the more grateful to have loved with that much of my heart to begin with.

If you’ve been reading my blog for long enough, you probably know that Brené Brown is one of my biggest inspirations and role models when it comes to life advice. She has a theory about how joy stems not from external conditions, but rather from engagement with the world through gratitude. In addition to that notion, her advice to “let the shudder of vulnerability that accompanies joy be an invitation to practice gratitude, to acknowledge how truly grateful we are for the person, the beauty, the connection, or simply the moment before us” is something I try my best to let guide me when the road ahead seems obscured or even at a dead end.

So, looking back, even when I felt out of place, lost, confused, and defeated, my connections with all the people who made the last few months worth it is what I choose to let define my first semester at Penn State. And I know that moving forward it’s okay to still feel that way. But to all of the people and experiences who have helped me realize that, I am genuinely beyond grateful for you, and regardless of where the road takes me during Spring Semester, I can’t wait to spend it alongside you all.

Happy holidays, and I’ll see you all soon!