When I announced to my parents that I had accepted my offer from Penn State and was suddenly going to be thrusted 1,408 miles away from my home in Austin, the response was mixed, to say the least. My mom went into a total state of denial, refusing to talk about any state in the northwest region, nonetheless Pennsylvania, while my dad supported my decision with quiet affinity and was simply pleased that I chose a school he knew I would be happy at. It was at a constant hot and cold. So, despite what my family feels and despite what other people assume, I have to be sincere. There is no real reason why I chose Penn State. To be honest, I didn’t even know about Penn until I read Perks of Being a Wallflower and discovered that one of the main characters was attending there. My interest was further peaked upon watching the film adaptation of the book, and discovered that the main character I mentioned was played by Emma Watson.

I’d be lying if I said that didn’t have an influence on my decision.

My choice sat well with me all of April and May. Though I still didn’t know why I picked PSU, it felt right that I did. My friends were supportive of me, my dad was proud of me, and my mom began to let her icy exterior melt bit by bit. She ingested herself into planning, researched everything she could, sent me links to blogs that offered advice for incoming freshmen. For a moment I thought that she had come to peace with the idea of me leaving, but there were still moments in which I would catch her wiping away a tear if I plopped down on the couch to watch an episode of Cake Wars with her, or even just said a simple thank you after she had eaten lunch with me. These were the hardest parts for me– the moments where I would witness her break.

Here’s the truth: it sucks. My mom always joked that it seemed like I was trying to find the furthest place away from her. Of course I knew it wasn’t true, but that didn’t stop me from only applying to out-of-state schools. Everything was so rushed, with no thought to it at all. I thought I knew exactly what I was doing. It wasn’t until after my parents dropped me off that I realized I felt lost. Until that point I had been completely sure of my decision. I suddenly didn’t know.

Clueless, I Googled for help and came across an article that was directed towards my situation. One of the responses was that “when you get homesick, you really get homesick. You literally can’t do anything but wait until passes. And sometimes calling home just makes it worse.” I sadly began to identify with this on a sickening level, as I’m sure everyone has. Most of the students I’ve met are either from Pennsylvania or New Jersey, and could easily take a bus home. Some of them can even walk. I routed it– it would take me 28 hours to get home if I wanted to. It’s not exactly easy, and it’s very taxing emotionally. My dad said that whenever I feel homesick, I need to distract myself. How could I do that? How could I avoid thinking about my parents, my home? The answer is you can’t. It’s nearly impossible.

Instead of avoiding it, I decided to write about it. A diary, if you will, about what it’s like to not only be an out-of-state student, but an out-of-state student who suddenly changed everything they knew. This is the reality of learning to adapt, grow, and come to terms with a new atmosphere that isn’t comfortable. This is how to make a home away from home.