familiar cross-fades

I vividly recall a college conversation with my friend Rachel. We chatted within the first few weeks of my first semester of college. She was one of the few people I already knew when I started.

"I'm thinking of transferring to another school," I told her.

The first few weeks of college took its toll. The erratic loneliness. The awkward meals alone. I missed my girlfriend back home. I missed my family. I missed my friends.

And I wasn't just missing what used to be.

Adapting to college brought plenty of challenges.

Attempting to adapt to two new roommates with wildly different personalities. Attempting to push my introverted self out there to meet people. Attempting to time my showers in the floor's community bathroom to avoid waiting for an opening. Attempting to comprehend my poly sci professor's impenetrable lectures (spoiler: I dropped poly sci as a minor).

All this attempting brought one solution to my mind: I needed to leave. 

Even though I'd just replanted myself, I wanted to uproot.

My reactive plan did not persuade Rachel, a seasoned college junior. "You just got here," she said breezily. "Slow down; give it some more time."

I didn't like her idea.

Yet transferring seemed like a ton of extra work. So, I stayed.

Within a few month's time, Rachel's advice seemed eminently wise. I acclimated. I made friends. Girlfriend from home and I broke up (so in a rough way, that situation worked itself out). I found people to share meals with.

 I settled in to my new life.

I re-learned an important lesson: my initial impressions often mislead me.

It's like this: sometimes the familiarity (and our memories) of what was can blind our imagination's ability to accurately see what could be.

Don't stay fooled by the cross-fade of what was and what could be.

It took every bit of the "give it some more time" my friend Rachel suggested.

I met people my first few weeks of school that seemed like they could be my friends all through college. 

It didn't work out that way. But I met other people, and found another crowd or two by the next semester that ended up introducing me to lifelong friends. By the end of that first year, I looked forward to coming back the next fall.

My friend Rachel's advice guided me well; it helped me to be skeptical of my skepticism. Hopefully you have someone who helps you to be skeptical of your own skepticism.

I never did try to reacquire poly sci as a minor, though.