Since 1923 • For a greater Loyola

The Maroon

Since 1923 • For a greater Loyola

The Maroon

Since 1923 • For a greater Loyola

The Maroon

Student adjusts to college

Student adjusts to college

Am I handling all of this? Am I really handling it? I can’t tell. I feel as though during these past two months (has it really been that long?), I’ve been walking around in a state of bewilderment, as though a tornado has picked me up and spit me out in the middle of this new—and not so new—campus.

Even through the daze, I’m paying attention. Or at 8:30 a.m., I’m at least attempting to focus on the things I am learning both in class and outside of it.

I’m learning so much about New Orleans, about the streetcar, about my small-talk skills, because let’s be honest, they certainly are lacking at times.

I’m meeting so many new people so frequently that I have the script down.

“Hi, my name is Julia. What’s yours? Where are you from? What are you majoring in?”

I’m going through the motions.

There is so much to do, learn, see and experience in this new place. So many options that I’m excited for all of them, and none of them at the same time.

I’ve already caught myself thinking: “Am I really here? I’m already in college? This is crazy.”

Where did the years go? I’m definitely an adult, but am I grown up? I’m responsible (mostly), I can take care of myself, I can make my own decision to continuously neglect my unmade bed, but I still feel so young.

Am I alone in these thoughts? Looking around, I feel as though most people are adjusting pretty well to the college lifestyle and the different type of work.

But are there people who are like me who are adjusting well but still feel a bit of whiplash?

Going to visit my family was both a fantastic and weird experience.

Walking to the Freret Garage on my way to the airport, I looked back at my residence hall and, suitcase in hand, felt as though I was leaving home to go home. I thought, “Whoa. This is unreal.”

When I got to Texas, I stayed in my sister’s room (which used to be mine), and it was strange to feel so welcome and yet still feel like a guest in my old room.

I was sad to leave, but on the plane back to Loyola, I yearned for my bed, my books and my newfound friends.

I couldn’t wait to get back to this incredible place where I am learning more than I ever thought possible, asserting my independence and still not making my bed.

This place is where I’m growing up. And even though it’s still unfamiliar at times, it is amazing to be well on the way to the rest of my life.

Julia Hussey can be reached at

[email protected]

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