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To my best friend and other half,
You may only be a few hours from me, but there are days that distance feels more like a whole world away. But there are some things that I want you to know.
First, don't ever think that I have forgotten you. In fact, I hope you know that's it's the exact opposite. I talk about you constantly. I talk to people that don't even know who you are, and I tell them stories like "This one time..." and "You won't believe it but..." You come up in almost every conversation I have, no matter who I'm talking to. I hope you do the same about me. I am always wondering if you tell the same crazy stories that I do about our friendships to other people while you're at school too. Do you tell them about that one time we went to that one party? Or that one time that we laughed about that one girl? Because I do.
Please don't let your mind wander and assume that I've replaced you with new "college friends." Sure, I've made plenty of friends here. But none of them are you. None of them will ever be you. There isn't another person in the universe that could ever replace you. You're my one and only, and I don't want that thought to ever slip from your mind.
I know we don't talk all the time, but I wish we could. There will never be a time that I ignore you on purpose. If I could talk to you every second of every day I would. Unfortunately, college comes with work. A lot of work. I don't always have my phone, and I know that I should. So, for that, I am truly sorry. I constantly wish I had more time for our long conversations filled with gossip and stories about our other friends back home. I know you have the same problem, and you're just as busy as I am. I always catch myself thinking that life would be so much easier if I could just keep you in the closet of my dorm room, or if I could live on your bedroom floor at school. A girl can dream, right.
Lastly, please don't ever forget just how much I cherish you and our friendship. You truly are my one and only. Every cliche out there applies to our friendship. You're my best friend, you're my other half, you're the blond to my brunette, and you're the better part of me. You make me a better, more fun and outgoing person. If I didn't have you in my life, I'd be absolutely lost without you by my side. You helped me all throughout high school, and you're doing the same now that I'm in college.
I'm constantly wishing I could keep you in my dorm room forever without anyone asking too many questions.
Sincerely,
Your other half.
What Labor Day Means to This Galesburg, Illinois Native
To most high school and college kids today, Labor Day is just one more day of the school year that they have off. But in reality, Labor Day is a very necessary and meaningful holiday in the United States. It is dedicated to the hard, social and economic work of Americans. To me, however, it's even more. It's somewhat of a day of traditions among my family.
My grandfather has been a part of Local 25 (Plumbers and Pipefitters) for as long as I can remember. Each year, most of my family, along with most of the rest of the population of Galesburg, attends the Labor Day Parade. Not me, though. I almost never get to watch any of the parade, but I can't complain. I'm normally in it. It may not seem like much, but every year I get to throw candy for Local 25. It may not seem like much, but the smiles on the faces of the children who come to the parade with their families when they see us walking down the street is heartwarming. Each kid gets more and more excited as the multitude of Local 25 supporters walk down the street with aprons and buckets filled to the brim with the kind of candy that it seems like you can only get at parades.
A lot of people might find this tedious. Why walk in a parade when you can just watch it? To me it's a lot more than that, though. Not only do I get to make tons of kids happy and hyper with sugar, but I also get to do it alongside some of the most important people in my life. My grandparents have also always been a big part of the parade for years. And, if it weren't for them, I never would have gotten to be involved in the parade at all. One of my favorite parts of Galesburg's Labor Day Parade used to be watching my grandparents drive their big green John Deere Gator, with the back overflowing with every kind of candy imaginable, down the road. All of the people walking for Local 25, kids and adults both, would follow his Gator to refill their aprons and buckets with candy to throw to all the kids. While my grandparents no longer drive the Gator during the parade, they always stay involved. Whether they're just buying candy to throw or they're on a parade float, they always stay loyal to Local 25 and the Labor Day Parade, and so do I.
Even though the parade has been something of a tradition for my grandparents and me, what comes after is equally as important to us. Each year after the parade, there is a big picnic for all of the Local 25 members and supporters at Lake Story. It's there that I get to spend the rest of my day with my family. There is always the most delicious lunch and dessert to look forward to. With what seems like a never ending supply of hotdogs, brats and burgers you're probably asking yourself how it could possibly get any better. Let me tell you. Every year I enter one of the many raffles, and every year I (almost) win some kind of prize. But even better than all of this, I get to spend my entire day with two of the most important and influential people in my life. My grandparents, and Labor Day, are beyond special to me. They started this tradition for me, and I intend to continue to carry it out for many years to come.
So, this Labor Day, remember those who work hard for you and for others. Labor Day is more than just a day off from classes. Enjoy the day, and most importantly, spend it with those who are most significant to you.
How Anxiety Change Your Relationships
When most people think of the term anxiety, they think of things like panic attacks and depression. What they don't seem to think about is the affect it has on the relationships that those people have. Whether it be with friends, family or significant others, every relationship changes once anxiety comes into the picture. Many times, people slowly develop anxiety, but there are some times that it comes on more suddenly. People, as well as their relationships, become different when someone suffers from anxiety.
Whether it is true or not, most people believe that their friends, family and partners treat them slightly differently once it is out in the open that they suffer from anxiety. While some do (usually in an attempt to be sympathetic), many do not. Most people try to make those who are open and honest about their anxiety feel comfortable by treating them no different than anyone else. However, those who experience anxiety, temporary or permanent, tend to overthink most all situations.
Having anxiety within a friendship, or even a family, is much different than that of what it is like while in a partnership of some kind. The topic of uneasiness is more approachable between friends than it is with someone you are involved with. While it is still likely to be a difficult conversation to have, talking about your struggles and being able to set goals with friends and family is one of the most helpful things a person with anxiety can do. That being said, your relationship will still be different than it was prior to discussing your mental illness. This has nothing to do with whomever you have spoken to about your anxiety, but it has everything to do with your anxiety. Once you (and your anxiety) are aware that another person recognizes your situation, it seems that you become even more uncomfortable. I bet you didn't think that was possible! Well, it is.
Once another person knows about your anxiety, you become more and more conscience of what your relationship entails. No matter who it is — a girlfriend, boyfriend, family member or best friend — it becomes easier to sweat the small stuff. You worry more often about every action you take pertaining the aforementioned person. You will more than likely think about every word you say and every move you make. That may sound appealing, but trust me, it is not. You will overthink everything so much so that it drastically alters your relationship.
But, not to worry, many times (shockingly enough) this can change your relationships for the better. For those of you who are afraid, don't be. It is more than possible to overcome your fears, whether it be simply discussing your anxiety or overthinking the littlest of things, it is achievable. Just because things may be different, does not mean that they will be lousy. Most all people are understanding, caring, and even forgiving. But in order for them to be each of those things, they have to become aware of your situation.
What College Does to the Avid Reader
If I'm being truthful, there isn't such a thing as an "avid reader" in college. For those of you who think that college won't change your reading habits, you're drastically wrong. You'll fight it at first, but eventually you just have to give in.
Being an avid reader myself, I expected the same: I'd go to college, I'd do all my work, but then I'd read in my downtime. I have never been more wrong about anything in my life. I soon came to the realization that there is no such thing as downtime when it comes to college. That word is no longer in my vocabulary.
When I first made it to college as a freshman, I read two books of my own free will during the entire school year. The first was during our school's Welcome Week. I didn't feel well and chose not to go to one of the activities. Instead, I stayed in and finished a book I had previously started that same summer. The second book was during finals week of my second semester. It was nearly impossible to find the time to sit down and read something other than a textbook or assigned novel. I tried and tried and tried, but I was too busy to even pick up a book that I didn't need for class. But, that never stopped me from trying. I started countless novels. I would manage to get half way through before giving up, forgetting, or growing too busy.
This coming fall I will be a junior, and I'm here to tell you that burning desire to consume as many words as possible still eats at me every day. But, I am the kind of person to sit down with a book and read without ever glancing up at a clock. In college, that is not something you can do. I've missed classes and stayed up much too late at night with books only to find myself in a bind. However, I like to read as much as I can, but the only times I've found that to be possible during school is fall, winter, and summer breaks from classes.
During the school year, the only novels I have time to read anymore are the ones I'm assigned for the courses I'm in, and I barely have enough time for those as it is. Between assigned readings for textbooks and novels, papers and actual class, it seems as though time really does fly. However, I try my hardest to make time for things like shorter novellas and rereading books that are very special to me. And, most importantly, I still refuse to see a movie before reading the book; that's where I draw the line. Even though it's a small task, reading can sometimes feel like the hardest thing to do. But, I try not to let reading slip too far away from me. So, I stress to any incoming college freshman: don't let college take away from your reading. It's so difficult to make time for things like reading, but I promise that when you do read, it will be worth it. Even if it's the worst book in the world, it will seem like the best if only because the words aren't coming from the pages of a textbook.
An Open Letter to My First College Professor
To my first professor,
As an incoming freshman just a couple of years ago, I was afraid to open a new chapter in my life. I was not ready to open up to new people, especially professors. Everything I had ever heard about college professors was daunting. I imagined them to be harsh, cruel, and nowhere close to understanding. I was also informed that college professors were never ones to make time for their students, help them when they were falling behind, or be someone to come to with problems. I was in no way prepared to meet my first college professors.
However, upon my arrival to campus, I was faced with a challenge: meeting you, my first professor, outside of class. To me, this was inconvenient and uncomfortable. It put me in a sticky situation. What if I didn't like you? What if you were rude or condescending? What if you weren't understanding about my high level of anxiety?
I was wrong on every level. I met you before college even started. You met with a large group of students that you would have for a first-year-student course the upcoming semester. You were kind, generous, and had a great sense of humor. My only fear after meeting you was that you would not be the same way during our actual course together. After realizing this fear, you pulled me aside almost as if you knew exactly what I was thinking. You spoke to each student individually about their plans for college and what followed. You discussed our plans in a way that made each person feel as though any goal we set for ourselves was achievable. You addressed our fears about other professors, as well. You made it clear that not every professor on our campus, or others, for that matter, were the same as you. You let us know that you were not the typical professor, but many on our campus were also not what we probably expected them to be. After meeting you with and without people, I had decided even before meeting any others that you would be my favorite professor. You were more understanding than any other adult I had ever met.
Soon after, your course began, and I only learned to appreciate you more. You taught me things that I could not have learned anywhere else about things I never expected. If it was not for you and your Freshman Seminar, I never would have been able to handle my first year of college. You taught me things that high school never could have prepared me for. Soon enough, you were more than a professor. You were a friend. Whether I was in class with you or not, if I had a problem about anything, you were the one I could talk to. You made my first year of school much easier and happier than I ever expected it to be.
I have everything to thank you for. You were an amazing professor, friend, and confidant. You were understanding about each problem I faced, whether it was personal or academic. You were helpful. Without you, I would not be the student I am today. Thank you for everything you did for me.
Sincerely,
Your favorite student.
What College Taught Me About Anxiety
College was never something that I questioned. I would go and I would succeed. But once I got there I had one question. How? How could I leave everything I had known my whole life for something completely different? At this point, I had already had anxiety for a multitude of years and I had learned different ways of handling it. But the idea of going to college had me baffled. How could I with my anxiety?
I did it. And I can't lie, it was hard. There were times, more than one, that I thought that I couldn't handle what was given to me. I cried, and I cried a lot. I broke down into the smallest of pieces. But I did it. The key to anxiety, for me, was not different medications. It was friends and family. They were there each and every time that I needed them.
At first, classes were the worst of it. Freshmen year I never thought I would make it to the end of one semester, let alone two. First I got lost, then I got nervous because I didn't know my professors, then I got uncomfortable because I didn't know my classmates, then I got scared because there were upperclassmen in the same class as me. Eventually I adjusted to each of these things. It took time, but as I continued on I learned how to deal with each of those problems. I learned the campus, I got to know each of my professors on a more personal level as my classes continued (perks of my smaller school), and I learned how to speak to my other classmates without crying. It all took time, but it was worth it because it took some of the weight I seemed to be carrying off my shoulders.
Then I discovered college papers. These are difficult for almost everyone. However, I stressed about mine more than most people might. I'm not the type of person to outline a paper unless it is more than four or five pages. But, in college many professors require an outline. That made me nervous. Papers that were more than four or five pages made me nervous. Papers for classes that I didn't enjoy made me nervous. Everything about writing papers made me nervous. But I learned how to deal with that as well. That also took time, and it was also worth it. I learned, slowly, that I needed to take my time when writing papers, especially important ones. Soon enough, papers became my friend. They got easier and easier, which should have come as no surprise to me considering I'm an English writing major, but by the end of my freshmen year I was amazed at the progress I had made.
Going away to college taught me a lot of different things. I learned a lot in each of my classes, but I learned even more from the people I connected with. Whether it was professors or students, I learned a lot about others and even more about myself. But the most important thing my first year of college taught me was that it was imperative that I be upfront about my illness. Anxiety is a serious illness, and if more people were as open about it, it might not be so hard for those who suffer from it to talk about it or seek help. I can't stress enough: talk to people about your anxiety. You are not alone. There are many others that share the same anxious thoughts that you do. If you open up just a bit, you'll find them. So, always ask for help when you need it, and make it known when you're nervous or unsure about anything. Don't let anxiety beat you. I didn't, and it was the best decision of my life to fight it.
It's the Little Things
When I went to college, the only thing I was concerned about was being a new freshman. I wanted to do all of the typical, stereotypical first-year-of-college activities. My only plans were to become besties with my new roommate, meet new people, stay out late, go to frat parties, etc. What I did not plan on, of course, was meeting the love of my life when I was 18 because, let’s be honest, the last thing anyone wants to do is settle down the second they get to college. Settling down means no more strange dates with people your roommate set you up with, and no more (attempted) flirting at parties. But, when cupid strikes, the only thing you can do is give in.
Toward the end of my first semester of college, I had been hanging out with a good friend of mine for quite some time. He just so happened to be pretty close with a guy that I had my sights set on for a while. However, this guy I was so into had later started dating one of my girlfriends. Not wanting to be the homewrecker type, I left him alone, and I tried my best to keep my mind off of him for months. Sadly for them, and luckily for me, the two of them ended things when the semester was coming to a close. I didn’t plan to intrude; I merely wanted to make it clear that I was a good friend and source of comfort. I wanted to lend a helping hand while he was hurting. I had no intention of being a rebound, and I made that perfectly clear from the beginning.
However, the two of us began to spend an increasing amount of time together. Finally, just before our semester exams, we went on a real date together at the cutest little Italian restaurant. My heart was beating out of my chest all night, as I assumed that would be the night he finally asked me to be his girlfriend. But, you know what they say about people who assume… So, I was a nervous wreck for nothing. He didn’t ask me to go out with him that night. I became highly discouraged about the whole thing. I realized I made it clear that we needed to take things slow because of his recent relationship, but I couldn’t help but go over the entire night over and over again in my mind. What could I have possibly done wrong? I thought it had went very well and, typically, my anxiety took over. I no longer had control over my own thoughts about the night. In my mind, everything had gone wrong: he no longer wanted anything to do with me, and he hated our first night out.
As it turned out, my anxiety was all kinds of wrong about that night. I only knew this because, about a week later (closer to Christmas), he took me to the most beautiful park, overflowing with twinkling lights. There, he gave me a handwritten letter that had the lyrics to George Straight’s “Check Yes or No” neatly written at the bottom. It was the most magical night I had ever encountered. That night, I felt as though I was the star in one of those sweet rom-coms that are always shown on the Lifetime channel during the holidays. It was perfect. He was perfect. We were perfect.
From then on, we were inseparable. If we weren’t at home or in class, we were together. I was always in his dorm, and he was always in mine. The only problem was our upcoming winter break; that meant almost two months apart from each other. We realized it would be hard, but we didn’t know just how difficult it would be. We had just started dating, so we were still in the honeymoon phase of our relationship. Being apart was not in the rule book for the honeymoon stage. But, that is how I eventually learned he was the one for me.
Being away from him tore me apart. But, that's not what made me realize how perfect he was for me. It was the little things I began to notice while we were away from each other; it was the way he said my name, the tone of his voice. It was clear, just from his voice, he was missing me just as much as I was missing him. It was the way he did everything in his power to spend time with me. Not only that, it was the way he spent that time with me. He made sure I felt special the whole time we were together, even if it was only for a few hours at a time. Then again, he always made me feel special. He still does. But it was the way he held me, too; his goodbyes. Each time we had to part, we never knew when we would see each other again, so he kissed me like it'd be the last time he ever did. He held me closer, and he held me tighter. He made me feel his love in a way that I never even imagined possible.
It was over that winter break that I knew he was my forever. He was my future.
Since then, we've only grown stronger. He has done nothing but reassure me that he is the man for me. He's constantly making me feel like I am capable of anything with him, and I truly believe that. He makes the bad good, and he makes the good even better. Whether we're out on a fancy date or we're sitting on the couch, munching on snacks, watching movies in our pajamas, he always makes me feel loved and wanted. He never doubts me, and he supports every decision I make, even if he isn't sure about it. He knows I can take on anything, and I know he'll be by my side through it all. But, most importantly, he always, always makes me feel loved, like I don't have a worry in the world. That's how I know he's the one.
My Parents Are My Best Friends
Most girls grow up in one of two ways; a Mommy's girl or a Daddy's girl. I, however, am stuck in the middle. I am an only child, and in my almost 20 years of life I have been blessed with two parents who I share an unbreakable bond with. For as long as I can remember, my mom and dad have been my best friends.
While I was born in July of '96, just three years prior my sister was born in the same month. Her name was Molly, and she was one of the most beautiful baby girls I have ever laid eyes on, although, some might say that I'm biased on that subject. My sister was born prematurely, and the day she was born, she fit into the palm of my Dad's hand. She may have only lived 10 days on this earth, but she will be loved forever.
I'd like to think that Molly is a big contributor to the special type of love and friendship that I share with my parents. If it weren't for her, there's a good chance that I wouldn't be here today. My mom has openly admitted more than once that she was never too fond of the idea of having children, at least not until my oldest cousin was born and she became an aunt. However, losing Molly was a tragedy for not only my parents, but my whole family. So when I was born, things were a little different. My mom and dad held me tighter. Now, at 20, they still hug me a bit harder and a bit longer than normal each time I leave, even if I'm only going to the grocery store. And for that I am eternally grateful.
Knowing that I shouldn't be an only child is painful, but it's just as hard for my parents. No matter the circumstance, I consider myself lucky to have the wonderful parents that I do. Not many people, teenagers especially, can say that their parents are their closest friends and the first people they run to, whether it be good news or bad.
Growing up, I spent all my time with family, more specifically, my parents. Some of my fondest memories center around the drives to and from wherever we were going on any given day. I remember the drives more than the actual places. The best and most important thing to me back then, and now, was cruising in the car with every window down and the radio turned up as far as it would go. Most people do this with their piers. But, I did it with my dad, and that's even better. We always had '80s hair bands pounding their music through the speakers. Motley Crue, Poison, Kiss, Def Leopard, you name it, we listened to it and sang along. And by sang along, I mean screamed every word as loud as possible, right along with the music.
My mom was the same way, only we bonded over typical girl things like shopping, gossip, and emotional TV shows. Especially the "Gilmore Girls" and "Friends." We would watch episode after episode, quoting every line until we made my dad want to pull his hair out. We would (and still do) quote "Friends" like it was some secret, inside joke that we had. The lines that we recite, even now, are ones that only true "Friends" fans would know. The line we most commonly scream is, "PIVOT," from the episode "The One with the Cop." It never fails; people who aren't super fans like us look at us like we have six eyes and tentacles for arms.
I have the two most perfect parents in the world. They have never once questioned me or stopped supporting me in any of my decisions. The two of them are constantly there when I need a shoulder to cry on or a hand to hold. They're always around for me to scream my good news to. They are the two people in the whole world that I know will only ever constantly send praise my way, even when I don't deserve it. I will never stop being thankful for all that they have done for me.
Be Grateful for Your Extroverted Bestie
It's quite common to have that one friend that is constantly dragging you out when all you want is to stay in. Unless you are that friend, in which case you would be the extrovert in the relationship. But something that not many people realize is that having an extrovert for a best friend is much better than you might think.
On those Fridays when you just want to stay in and Netflix and Chill with a bottle of wine, but your BFF drags you out anyways, you should be thankful. Instead of getting irritated that you have to leave your couch and trade your comfy PJ pants for skin-tight jeans, thank her for getting you off your ass and out into public. You might be semi-unhappy about the situation at first, but we both know that by the time the night is over, you'll be having the time of your life. So, instead of wasting your time huffing and puffing about squeezing yourself into that new crop top, relax and trust that your extrovert of a best friend has a good night in store for you.
Whether you're going to the clubs, the bars or just a back road bonfire, being an introvert, it is going to be hard for you to do; it will be even harder for you to enjoy yourself. Most of the time you're there, you're probably going to be questioning why your friend dragged you there when you could be cuddling up to some cheap Barefoot Wine. But something that you should keep in mind is that your bestie didn't drag you off your couch for her. She did it for you. She wants what is best for you. And, most likely, what's best for you is not staying in and eating an entire pizza alone while binge watching a TV show you've already watched 18 times. What IS best for you is probably getting out and actually enjoying yourself and the people around you.
I know it's hard to think about while you're laying on the couch with your two friends, Ben and Jerry, but your extrovert wants to help you come out of your shell. Most introverts, much like myself, suffer from some form of anxiety or other disease. That being said, going out is a challenge for them, and you're extroverted other half only wants to make it easier for you.
Thank them. Always, always, always remember to thank them. Being an introvert myself, I love having someone like that by my side to drag me out when I can't do it myself. I am more than thankful to have a best friend to make me feel comfortable when I'm at my most vulnerable (AKA out in public.) Having someone like that with you helps you to let your guard down and relax, because you know she will be there when you're at a loss for words or just too anxious to function.
So next time, please remember to be grateful for all that your extroverted friends do for you that you don't realize. Thank them for pulling you out of bed or off the couch. Thank them for putting the pizza in the fridge and the ice cream in the freezer. Thank them for picking out your outfit and reminding you how good you look in your skinny jeans. Thank them for everything. Most of all, thank them for helping you when you can't realize that you need to help yourself.
How a Small Town Campus Brought Me Closer to Home
A common factor among small-town high school students is the incessant urge to get out, to find a college big enough and far enough away from little 'ol home. Something none of these eager beavers never openly admit is that, upon arriving at their big new campuses, they are mortified rather than excited. They are no longer such eager beavers. After quite some time spent trying to adjust, find their way around and remember all 146 names they recently learned (other than their roommate), they realize that the transition may not be as easy as they originally assumed.
Not every small town kid will make it big just because they decided to go to a big college or university. While some do, and even love it, many that I have known in the past choose to come home after one or two semesters in order to attend a community college until choosing where they would like to transfer or deciding not to further their education any longer. I am more than sure that many students from small towns do exceptionally well at the colleges and universities that they initially chose; in my experience, still, many seem to grow uncomfortable and feel out of place, even after spending months on campus.
However, students transferring somewhere smaller and closer to home has nothing to do with them or the big colleges they wanted to call home. It has to do with the way they were raised and where they called home for the previous 18 years. Being a part of a small town your whole life is somewhat comparable to a religious experience, meaning it is more or less like attending church (which also happens quite frequently in small towns). The cliche saying about "everyone knowing everyone else's business" is more than true. All problems, mental, physical and financial, are considered to be public information in a small town. Even relationships (correction: especially relationships), are free range when it comes to town gossip. Education, high school and college both, are also up for grabs.
With that being said, bigger colleges don't have all of those things (due to the large number of students on campus). That's what seems to draw in small town students the most. But, as it turns out, more often than not the students who attended a small high school miss the gossip, the drama, and the small town feel. That is precisely why I chose to go to a college on the smaller side of the spectrum; not for the gossip, but for the small town feel. I visited a multitude of colleges during my final two years of high school, many of them quite large in comparison to my high school with a graduation class of 32 people. I ended up picking a college in a town that, with a population of 5,300, seemed a lot bigger than the town I grew up in, which consisted of about 200 people. Upon visiting other campuses, I realized that I chose one of the smallest universities in Illinois. Choosing the small college that I did was one of the best decisions I have ever made.
Nonetheless, moving an hour away to attend college was still one of the biggest transitions I have ever had to make. The same goes for any person new to a college, but making the change of seeing familiar faces day after day to not knowing a single person is hard. But, because I chose to go to a college with only 654 undergraduate students, it was much easier for me to get to know other students and do it quickly. And, a small college means a small town. And a small town means that just about everything I ever experienced during my time as a high school student in my own small town was happening there as well. I did not feel pressured, nor did I ever feel out of my element. Even though the town my college is in is small, it is still bigger than where I grew up. But it never felt even slightly different. While I never actually hear town gossip, I do hear rumors about other students on and off campus constantly. It's just like being home, only with different participants in the gossiping.
Choosing to go to a small school was hard for me to do. During my senior year of high school many of my classmates chose to move on to "bigger and brighter" things by attending a university with an outrageous number of students in larger-than-life cities. I was never able to come close to imagining myself at school in states like Nebraska, Wisconsin or even Missouri. But even with all the pressure of finally choosing a college, it eventually came easy to me after visiting the campus just one time. I felt like I was at home. When you passed people on the streets around town they waved, everyone knew the names of the other people living in town and it only had one coffee shop, which I fell in love with instantaneously.
The transition may have been hard at first, but in the end it was worth it. I am more than grateful that I was welcomed with open arms by the students, faculty and staff at Eureka College. It is a comfort knowing that Eureka, Illinois feels like home to me and that I see my future there. Choosing a big college is not always the best option; I know it wasn't for me. I'm proud of my small school, and I think that everyone attending Eureka would say the same.
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