As I sit in the study lounge of my dorm at Boston University, I am surrounded by windows overlooking the Charles River. In the background sits Harvard and MIT, and if I turn my head I can hear the cheers from Fenway. The first day I sat here, at the start of the semester, I had no homework and it was a warm September day. I was reading for pleasure and was so at ease; now time seems like a blur, and as I look back I cannot remember one other day where I sat in this lounge just to enjoy my surroundings, until today. I have been wanting to start a blog for a really long time, years actually. But it’s scary; it’s scary to open a piece of yourself for the whole world to see, at least your entire social circle and probably their moms. But as this chapter of my life comes to a close, I would feel as if I would be cheating myself in some way by not sharing my story. No, it is not an incredibly moving tale, and it will most likely not impact anyone’s life in any specific way. But maybe, just maybe, someone will be able to relate in some way, and possibly find comfort in knowing someone else out there has felt the same way.
My journey starts in Boston, Massachusetts. I chose BU because it was an amazing school, but mainly because it sounded so cool. No one in my town ever went away for college, and I fantasized about a city life (let’s be real I just wanted to live like the characters of Friends). However, when I arrived in New England, it was not what I expected. I love the city, and really do feel at home here. I have made the most amazing friends whom I know will be by my side for life. But I just couldn’t stop feeling like I was living someone else’s college dream, and that mine was back down south, at the University of Georgia. I had dreamt about attending UGA my whole life, but turned it down for something I thought would be more attractive to the public. And that was lesson number one.
I immediately did not feel like I fit in, which was the hardest thing to swallow since I came from a high school in the south where you knew everyone and had the same friend group since birth. In Boston, no one dressed like me, no one had similar experiences, no one had the same hobbies, I felt so incredibly alone. I would try to go do things I thought would be fun; baseball game, concerts, exploring, and no one would respond when I would reach out. I could not understand. But I was being taught a very valuable lesson, it’s okay to be alone. It’s okay to do things alone. I figured out who I was, and I became more confident about that person. I have never been able to express my true personality as much as I can now, and I have never been more comfortable to just be alone; being alone forced me to befriend my own self
Moving forward, I want to continue blogging. Fashion is important to me, and I want to share current styles I am into, current trends I plan to follow (or to avoid), or ones I want to create myself. My closet reflects my journey, and I want to share it with you. I also am passionate about traveling, so count this as my open travel journal, too. Have fun, because I am.