How I learned to love UGA again

For as long as I can remember, I have always loved the University of Georgia. My sister went there and my parents met there in Law School. I grew up going to every single home football game, my closet has always been filled with red and black and there wasn’t a room in my house without some kind of Bulldog paraphernalia. I was the girl in the third grade who would proudly sport a fading face tattoo of a Georgia G to school on the Monday after a Saturday between the hedges.

As soon as I got to high school, I had one goal: get accepted into the university that held such a special place in my heart. High school was tough for me and I wasn’t exactly at the top of my class, so I was forced to face the terrifying possibility that my future might not include UGA.

On March 20, 2015, when I came home to check my admission status with my parents, I truly believed I wouldn’t be receiving good news. I didn’t believe I could ever have earned a spot at such an incredible place. When the webpage loaded and I saw the fireworks and the word “Congratulations!” I fell to the floor and sobbed for 10 minutes straight.

I had never felt so validated in my entire life, and for the first time, I really believed I could achieve the all the things I wanted. Honestly, I have chills and tears are welling up in my eyes right now just replaying the moment in my head.

Fast forward to the fall and I was finally a student at UGA. It had been a month or two, and guess what? I absolutely hated it. I knew coming from 12 years at a small private school with a graduating class of 114 students to a large university would be quite an adjustment, but as an extrovert, I didn’t think I’d have too much of a problem.

I had always been the one to march to the beat of my own drum. I was the more independent and free-spirited one in my family, and I was even worried about UGA being too close to my home in Atlanta. I had no idea that once I got to the dream school that I once put on a pedestal, I would feel so unwelcome and unhappy.

I cried myself to sleep most nights of my first semester, and even though I did make friends, I didn’t feel like anyone truly knew or cared about the real me. Every time I went home for breaks or weekends, I wished I could just stay with my family and friends in Atlanta.

The drive back up Highway 316 made me dread the loneliness I felt in Athens. I had fun going to parties and events with the girls from my sorority, but the rest of the time I just felt incredibly alone, like I had made the wrong choice by coming to UGA.

Fast forward again, it’s mid-March and I’m almost done with my freshman year. I’m home.

And no, by that I don’t mean I gave up on UGA and went back to Atlanta. Now, home is my shoebox of a dorm in Brumby Hall. What changed, you ask? I did. It wasn’t easy or comfortable or smooth, but I woke up one day and told myself I could either keep wishing I would feel at home here, or I could start working toward making it the home I once believed it could be for me.

I realized I couldn’t just sit on my futon and throw myself a pity party for feeling like UGA wasn’t the place for me, but instead I had to find the place for me at UGA. I turned some new friends into family, I turned my passion for helping people into a goal of a career in Social Work and I turned the city of Athens into the quirky home I am fortunate enough to wake up in every day. I made the right choice in coming to UGA – but only because I made the choice to paint myself into the mural of the student population.

Today, I am proud to say my blood runs more red and black than it ever has before. I don’t take a single second of my time here for granted. This place can give you everything you’ve ever wanted if you seek it out. Home isn’t just anywhere, it’s a place you choose to become a part of.

I am so glad I fell back in love with UGA, because now I love it more than I ever dreamed I could have. I am happier now than I have ever been. Not only am I a part of UGA, but UGA is a part of me – and that is something I wouldn’t change for the world.