Hey Quilly Girls,

I am currently going into my last year of undergraduate university.

Ummmm…. saying that out loud feels a little scary!!! I am very nostalgic about this upcoming occurrence. I keep rewatching moments in my head from the very start of my college days and I want to, so badly, tell my younger self how far we’ve come. 
The amount of growth during this time of your life is incredible. Throughout everything between joining a new school where you don’t know anyone, have to start over, and you learn so much.

Lately I’ve been revisiting the summer before college in my head. I can still see the night I was sitting on the floor of my childhood bedroom, surrounded by piles of half-packed boxes, staring at my class’ Instagrams wondering what kind of people they would be. My mom kept popping her head in to ask if I wanted to bring any less things because she claimed I would have less room. I didn’t even know how to leave anything behind at that point. I needed everything. 

Move-in day itself felt like ten days in one. I wore a strapless denim dress in the summer heat while we lugged my life into a dorm with the help of an orientation leader who told me someone had thrown up in the middle of where my room was the year before. Amazing introduction. 

Although, I was so ready to move in that I was early enough and got to choose my own bed in a triple room which was a major positive at that point. That first night, after my parents left, I sat on the edge of the twin XL bed with this weird pit in my stomach, listening to the hum of someone else's speaker down the hall. I felt completely alone and nervous. 

Orientation was a whole event in itself.  In order to make us feel more connected, they put us into groups. From there I made conversation with the girl next to me and was lucky enough to find a friend. We started to do things together like go to the dining hall and walk to class and suddenly it wasn’t so nerve wracking anymore. Just by luck I was able to turn my anxiety into excitement. I was able to take every moment after that one day at a time. 
Flash forward, and now I’m no longer living in a dorm, or just coming into a new place, and everything feels so much lighter. The people that once intimidated me to talk to are now some of my best friends and I can call this place home. 

Looking back is so much easier than living through it though because of how in college everything is basically happening all at once. New place, new friends, new classes… new, new, new. 

When I started realizing how many “lasts” are going to start sneaking into my final semester without warning is such a bittersweet feeling. Last year energy hits different. It’s not really as much of a quick hit but a gradual one. It even comes up when you don’t realize it. Either the nostalgia of living on campus or walking to class and realizing it might be the last time walking that way.

There’s something about being at that moment in a life transition that makes me feel more aware of time. This definitely brings more gratitude towards things I would normally take for granted. Like eating with friends who normally live across the country or having a class that I would have every day but knowing that the professor won’t be teaching me forever.
I also just know I am going to find myself soaking in even the most mundane details of senior year like the rush between classes, the random conversations when running into people, the late-night study sessions that turn into therapy sessions. These were once just background noise in my routine, but now they feel sacred.

I'm also learning to be okay with the uncertainty ahead. As much as I want to hold onto everything I’ve built at college like the friendships, the habits, the version of myself that has evolved, I know that letting go is part of growing. (How mature do I sound???)

It’s scary not having a perfectly clear picture of what’s next, especially when there isn’t going to be as much structure as there is during school. Although…I think that’s part of the beauty. There’s this deep-rooted sense of ending combined with the excitement of what could be.

More than anything, I feel grateful towards myself. I think of all the times I doubted what I could do, all the nights I cried in frustration, the deadlines I thought I wouldn’t meet, the moments I felt out of place and yet, I’m still here. Somehow, I’ve made it to the final stretch, and I’m proud of the person I’ve become along the way. If I could sit with my freshman-year self, I’d tell them to hang in there, to breathe more, and to trust the process. I’d tell them that they will laugh, cry, fail, and succeed and through it all, they’ll be okay.

This final year feels like a love letter to every version of myself that got me here. I just hope I can savor every last second of it.

With love,

Quilly xoxo