“College is the best four years of your life.”
“You’re never going to have opportunities like these again.”
The problem with college, and I’m pretty sure it’s the same no matter where you go, is that you are expected to be everything, see everything, do everything. There’s this immense pressure to make sure that your four years, which you are most likely overpaying for, are perfectly balanced with stellar academics, fulfilling extracurriculars, lifelong friendships, a steady and serious relationship, an adventurous study abroad, and deep and meaningful connections with all of your professors.
The fact is though, that college is not this superhuman four-year block where nothing goes wrong, and it’s certainly not the peak of your existence. If so that would be incredibly depressing. But it’s this idea that college is this way that creates a culture of unhealthy overachieving. This argument is tried and true. We’ve all read about the pressures facing our generation in an increasingly global era to beat out the competition, etc. However, you rarely hear people bashing on the college experience. It’s like it’s this sacred entity bigger than you or me, which can feeling inaccessible at times.
For years I have suffered from an anxiety disorder, and it worsened when I went to college. If there was pressure to get into college, there was even more pressure to make every second count once you were there. It’s only recently that I begun to realize where this anxiety stems from: the feeling that when I choose one thing, I am inevitably missing out on another opportunity. I feel gripped, even as junior, in an extracurricular/academic FOMO (fear of missing out) of sorts. Every time I make a decision to study abroad or intern here, I find out that there’s another opportunity I missed out on. Sometimes I feel anxiety over opportunities that I don’t even know exist, because I don’t even know what I’m missing. And the whole thing is just entirely irrational.
If we didn’t choose a life partner in constant fear of the “soul mate” that we’ve never met, then we would never find those people that we love. I love the extracurriculars I’ve been involved in. I formed the strongest friendships I’ve ever had through the student government group I was in freshman and sophomore year. Habitat for Humanity allowed me to go on service trips that not only changed my perspective but also help me feel more bonded to a group of people than I ever thought possible. My job in our school’s Community Service Office helped me decide to pursue AmeriCorps following college. I am not unhappy with these decisions, but I feel stressed even now writing this about not having rowed crew or joined the campus radio station.
Working in Thibodaux, Louisiana on a service trip with Habitat for Humanity
I’ll never rid myself of anxiety. It’s a part of me as much as my gender identity or ethnic identity. I will continue to work on it for the rest of my life. But instead of looking at all the extraneous possibility, I try to remind myself that I have made my choices, and I am happy with my choices, because I wouldn’t trade my experiences for someone else’s. I love my limited life.