Throughout my life school always came easy. I’m not trying to puff myself up, it’s just the way it’s always been. I rarely had nights when I stayed up until the wee hours of the morning writing an essay or cramming for an exam. I put in as little effort as possible, but it worked. I graduated high school with a 4.0 GPA, one of only 10 other students in my class to do so. When I succeeded, I used to always hear the same line from my family: “We are so proud of you for all your hard work.” However, I never felt like I knew I wasn’t trying as hard as I couldn have for my success to be thought as well-deserved in the mind of my parents. But if this approach to life is considered “hard work” and therefore has brought me success, why would I ever change my habits? However, when I came to Boston college I realized I was very wrong. 

In the beginning, college was very fun. Since I am an outgoing person, I loved having the opportunity to meet new people and have new experiences. I quickly made friends with a few of the guys on my floor like Alex, Charlie, and Dan, while also spending time with my close friend from high school, Tim, who is also a student here. Within the first few weeks of being in a new city, the five of us had already gone to a Pitbull concert, two Redsox games at Fenway, and spent time discovering amazing Italian restaurants in the North End. Regina Pizzeria on Thacher Street has become my new favorite pizza place, I highly recommend it if you’re in the area. As for on-campus activities, I went to the football home games, I participated in events run by CAB like movie night in Alumni Stadium, and joined an intramural flag-football team. I had never done a wide variety of things in such a short amount of time like this before. The thought of being able to get up and try something new everyday made life more exciting than it has ever been. As for school work, I stuck to my philosophy of doing the minimum, focusing only on the assignments that were due the next day. At first this strategy was working, and I felt I was doing fine in all of my classes. Then the infamous “midterm season” began. 

I very quickly learned that once midterm season starts it feels like it never ends. Thankfully there hasn’t been a time this semester when I had three exams and an essay all due on the same day; rather all the projects, exams, and essays are spread out just enough that where I am constantly consumed with work instead of having one busy week with a light week following. Although it was a little overwhelming, I still felt I had things under control. Then it came time for the results of the midterms to be handed back. I remember my Economics professor sharing the results of the exam, telling us “the class average was an 82, with only 12 out of 400 students receiving below a 55.” In my head I chuckled thinking how unfortunate it would be to be one of those twelve students, but when I got my exam back, I discovered I was one of them. I went into shock. I didn’t know how to react. I couldn’t remember the last time I did so poorly on a test, especially one worth 25% of my entire grade.

Leaving the lecture hall, I beelined it to my dorm room. As I saw some of my classmates chatting about their scores outside after class, I felt my stomach turn into a knot, my palms started to sweat, and I was breathing heavily. To avoid the embarrassment and shame of having to share my grade with them, I made a left out of McGuinn and out the campus gates, walking up Beacon Street to steer clear of having to talk to anyone. I didn’t want to see anyone while I was freaking out. When I reached the steps back to Upper Campus, I decided not to go up. I kept walking. I didn’t know where I was going to go, but I needed to keep moving. I guess I was still trying to process what really happened. I felt this sense of guilt that hit me like a stab in my gut. I thought I was a failure. 

A few days later I was sitting in my friend Alex’s room watching Thursday Night Football, and he asked me how I did on the test. I told him my score and the things I felt as I went on the walk after the exam. As I talked about the shame and guilt that I was feeling, I started to get worked up again, and Alex had noticed. I told him these emotions were making me question everything. Where did I go wrong? What will everyone think of me? Am I going to flunk out of college? What should I do? I started spiraling and could feel this affecting my outlook on my college life. This exam made me want to lock myself in the library and study endlessly so this would never happen again. The first thing Alex did was tell me to breathe. After taking seven long breaths, I started to calm down. After Alex told me “Let me give you a piece of advice. “Don’t put so much pressure on yourself, it was one test. I’ve come to learn you shouldn’t let your grades control your life. You aren’t defined only by your GPA.” I started to think that maybe he was right. Maybe I am overreacting. This is the first time I did this badly and it shocked me, but in retrospect it didn’t mean the world was ending. I was filled with relief hearing from someone I respect that one bad grade isn’t the end all be all. 

My conversation with Alex helped me recognize that college is about making memories and having fun just as much as getting an education, but I still felt a lot of pressure to do well because I didn’t want to disappoint my family. As time went on I worked hard to move away from my high school habits and began adjusting to the college style. I started to use online tools like Google Keep to write down reminders and things I needed to accomplish each day. I created an online calendar filled with all the events I had lined up that day in order to see what times would be most efficient for me to study. I discovered that seeing my schedule rather than just thinking about it was more organized and therefore more productive. Since I started to be more productive with my time, I was able to get more involved with clubs and organizations. 

However as the semester continued, I started to lose confidence in myself again. As I met more people and got more involved in clubs, I felt inferior to everyone around me. I was walking out of a BCIC meeting one night with a group of people, and listening to them explain to each other how they already made their year-by-year plan on how they will get a job in Investment Banking right out of college. It seemed like these guys already had it all together: who they wanted to be, what their goals were, and already had a plan for how they are going to achieve all of their ambitions. Meanwhile I’m spending hours in the library just trying to stay on top of my assignments, not already researching internships for next summer with them. I don’t even know if I am going to stick with my current major, let alone what field I want to go into. It seemed like everything came easy to them, and it made me feel like I don’t belong here. Thinking about it all made me lose my motivation to get up in the morning. I forced myself to go to class so I wouldn’t fall behind, but besides that I stayed in my room stressing how I will never measure up and that I’m disappointing my parents. My anxiety started to pile up and was taking a toll on my mental health. I was at a very low point. I needed someone to talk to, but didn’t know who I could show this vulnerability to. My mom was coming up to visit for the Red Bandana football game versus Virginia Tech the following weekend and I knew she was going to ask how things were going. I wasn’t sure how I was going to answer. Should I be honest? Could talking to her even solve my feelings of self doubt?

When she got into town, we went out for lunch at Cityside in Cleveland Circle before the football game that Friday night, and I decided I was going to talk to her about my feelings. After explaining my feelings of not being able to measure up and how she would in return be disappointed in me, she shared a few words of her own. She said, “Look, this first semester is just about surviving and adjusting to college because it’s a huge change. I don’t expect you to figure it all out right away… If you get a bad grade, so be it. I’m proud of you just for being here.” She then went on to tell me I deserve to be here just as much as everyone else. I was accepted to BC for a reason, it didn’t happen by mistake. She also just wants me to be happy. Hearing my biggest role model and supporter in my life reiterate what Alex was saying made me see that I was putting too much pressure on myself. Our conversation helped me let go of the anxiety that I will only earn my family’s approval and be proud of me if I get good grades. She then told me that “When you look back on college, you are going to remember that one crazy night where you and your friends ended up at IHOP at 3am where you ate tons of pancakes and shared even more laughs, not one failed test.” Ever since that conversation, I try my best to keep that advice in mind. 

Everyone always tells you the cliché quote “College is the best four years of your life, take advantage of it,” but I’m telling you to be patient. When you get here you are going to want to recreate the funny college stories dad used to tell us from his time at Villanova like carrying your buddy’s mattress to the quad while he’s passed out on it. However, it isn’t all going to happen right away. I’ve started to realize that similar to life, college is like a rollercoaster filled with ups and downs. There will be times where you feel like you don’t belong or are stressed about the workload. Just remember that you are right where you’re supposed to be, so you should enjoy all that comes with the privilege of being at Boston College.