College is like a test you don’t prepare for. You either figure it out or fall behind. But what’s not an option is giving up. Four years later, I’ve met four different versions of myself. Somewhere along that road I learned the art of letting go is not something you can touch or define really—it’s something you feel.
Freshman year was uncertain. I came to college after a time in my life when everything felt like it was falling apart. In 2021 and 2022, I faced challenges that made finishing and graduating high school—and even thinking about college—feel distant and unimportant.
Then, suddenly I was here.
Freshman year was like a wakeup call. Freedom didn’t really feel freeing at first. If anything, it was overwhelming. No one knows you, what you do or what you’re even about. It felt like starting the first page of a book, knowing I had to write something, but not knowing how to begin.
Every day was something new: new people, new environment, new emotions, new everything, really. I felt angry, confused, ecstatic—and at some moments stuck. But at the same time, there were moments I felt rejuvenated. Maybe I had a chance to start over. By the end of freshman year, I felt like two different people, and some days I didn’t like either one of them.
Still, I stayed.
Sophomore year was about searching. I changed my major from music to business to public relations, trying to figure out where I fit. Everyone had opinions—friends, family, professors—and I told them I was certain in my decision. But the truth was, I wasn’t sure about anything.
I questioned my purpose, my path, even my place here at Campbellsville. I came here to find a way to be closer to my sister, but somewhere along the way, I had to figure out if I was maybe there for myself.
At the same time, life never slowed down. Loss followed loss in my family, and it felt like I was carrying more than I could handle. One of the most difficult things that year was losing a friend to death. I realized that in college, you’re not expected to have everything figured out, even if it feels like you should.
Junior year was where everything intensified.
I came back to CU determined to change what I could control. My habits, my mindset, even how I presented myself. For a while, I thought it worked. I felt like I was actually growing, becoming someone better. But growth isn’t always clear, and things shifted once more.
Friendships were tested. Some ended without warning. People I trusted disappeared from my life like they never existed. That was one of the hardest lessons—not everyone is meant to write in my book.
College does teach you about friendships—how they are temporary, but the lessons they leave behind aren’t.
I had to learn forgiveness, not for others, but for myself. Forgiveness meant choosing not to carry the weight of what hurt me. It meant freeing myself from constantly reliving the same pain.
Reconciliation? That’s new. It takes two people, effort, honesty, and time. And sometimes, no matter how much you want it to happen, sometimes you don’t need it at all.
Another lesson—not everything is meant to be repaired or can be. Sometimes protecting your peace is more important than holding onto what’s already broken.
Senior year has been a trip. Change occurring anywhere and everywhere. Exciting and terrifying. The pressure to have everything figured out, to know what comes next, to have a plan and not waste the time you have left.
Learning to slow down. If you want to try something, do it. If you fail or get rejected, that’s okay—at least you tried and gave it your best. If college has taught me anything, it is this—life doesn’t always follow a plan.
There were moments where life was throwing every battle it could at me. There were days when getting out of bed would be a struggle or sometimes a victory.
Letting go isn’t about forgetting. It’s about accepting and moving forward, understanding what is and making peace with it.
College has been four years, four very different versions of me, and I’m still finding my way.
