My biggest fear is the forced perception of time passing — birthdays, new years and even the pregame countdown in Gampel Pavilion makes me tear up sometimes. I never really had this issue until 2020.
I was a senior in high school when the infamous March 12 happened. I had just gotten my hair done after school when I got the call that classes were suspended for two weeks. At the time, I was just pissed because no one was going to see my fresh cut.
Two weeks in, I had already tried and given up on the Chloe Ting workouts, drank way too much whipped coffee and the Renegade TikTok dance was a reflex at that point.
Then suddenly, it was April 21. It was the time of year when all the fun stuff was supposed to happen — college t-shirt day, senior countdown, prom and graduation to name a few. But instead, school was canceled for the rest of the year?
That’s when I think the fear started, or at least definitely the depression — watching the days on the calendar pass by while I felt stuck in place. Living in a loop of playing way too much “Fortnite” and eating my weight in shredded cheese for weeks on end. I was angry, but I felt guilty about being angry. The things I was missing were so trivial in the grand scheme of everything, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
I had it in my head that things would go back to how they were when this was all over. But then I realized that not a single aspect of my life was the same. I had moved away from my hometown, “graduated” high school, and eventually would be moving to Connecticut (spoiler alert: I did all of freshman year online in my bedroom).
When I finally got to campus sophomore year, I felt like I had to make up for lost time. I thought if I took advantage of every opportunity and said yes to every plan, it would somehow cancel out all my anger.
But here I am, six days away from donning that cap and gown, and I’ll let you in on a little secret: It didn’t work. It’ll never feel like I had enough time here. It sounds cheesy, but trust me, it’s true. Cherish every moment. There’s no other time in your life quite like these four years. You’re teetering on the edge of independence, free to make mistakes but still sheltered enough to avoid the real-world consequences. There’s so much to miss, so much to hold onto. Go to the party, lean into the school spirit and pull the all-nighter at Babbidge (it’s lowkey fun). I have so much to be excited for once I’m out of here, but growing up sucks.