Classes Are Easy, But College Is Hard. So I'm Doing It My Own Way.

Classes Are Easy, But College Is Hard. So I’m Doing It My Own Way.

College didn’t feel “real” until my first paper was returned covered in red pen. I did pass by a significant enough margin that it seems to not have been a fluke, but I half expected to not have the paper returned at all. I imagined the TA pulling me aside and saying, “You know you aren’t in this class, right?”

Logically, I know that that’s silly. My name is called every Tuesday and Thursday morning at the beginning of class, the professor has yet to kick me out, and all my school bills are paid, but I still thought I’d be called out as a fraud.

The Fall I transferred to Barnard, a girl almost got through the whole of Columbia orientation before it was figured out that, to quote Mean Girls “She doesn’t even go here!” So if I had pulled off getting through multiple weeks of class It would be quite impressive. But beyond logistics, it’s pretty crazy that I can do a lot of stuff that is ‘weird’ by most 22-yr-old’s standards, and yet I can’t manage to feel at home on a college campus.

I’ve never been comfortable at college. I love the classes, typically adore my professors, but the social stuff is beyond me. Those things that we are told by shows on ABC, chick flicks, and YA novels are associated with college: all-nighters, hall parties, hiding booze in water bottles, and casual sex, aren’t things I am anywhere near socially. They don’t even register on my radar or Thursday night possibilities. Maybe that’s why it must not be real.

If college is about the social life, and I have none, am I really even in college?

Well, the answer according to my parents and my bank accounts would be a strained yes, but even after getting that first paper back, I’m only just starting to feel it.

Call this a rambling, and I won’t be offended. I woke up at 4:40am this morning to catch a 6am plane out of Raleigh/Durham, to land at 7:30am, to get to class by 8:40am which, thanks to some really splendid rush hour traffic, I stumbled into half-way through.

My teacher excused the tardiness. I had told him on Friday that I might be late. I was speaking at UNC Chapel Hill Monday night and would be cutting it close getting back. He looked at me like I had said I’d be late because I would be busy shooting up.

So maybe my college experience will be, even when college is my main focus, innately different. I won’t go to wild parties because I have to get home to walk my dog, I won’t have time for clubs because I spend most of my free time writing or traveling, and I won’t obsess over A’s because I’ve realized that there are more important things in life.

I only recently realized that I’m really in college again, and I am not quite sure whether I like it or not. But the more I accept that my college experience is mine, and does not have to fit a mold, the more I find that it fits me just right.