Starting Over: The Trials of Transferring Colleges
It began as a tiny knot in my chest. Now, for a high-strung person, this feeling was nothing but an old friend. And, of course, all freshmen can get wrapped up in the tension of starting their college journey. However, as the weeks began to unfurl before me, I got even more tangled up in my thoughts until that tiny knot in my chest grew into a coiled mess of misery. I watched vicariously as my peers started to unwind and settle into the daily routine of college life—even the ones once as knotted up as me eventually detangled themselves. Yet, regardless of how many classes I took or friends I made and or clubs I joined, the dread inside me remained.
Everyone says, “Just give it some time.” But when the weeks turned into months, and the months turned into semesters, I realized that time wasn’t the solution to my problem. Throughout my freshman year of college, I grappled with that intimidating eight-lettered word: transfer. If you attend a four-year state school, you’ll come to realize that that word is quite taboo among peers, parents, and school advisors. All that judgment and shame only pulled that knot in my chest tighter and tighter until the idea of transferring colleges suffocated all my thoughts.
I felt as if life was tugging me in conflicting directions. On the days when I would participate in lively class discussions, sit in the library with a cup of coffee, and hang out with friends late into the night, I tried to convince myself perhaps I would become acclimated to the campus. These glimpses of happiness strung me along, giving me a temporary taste of optimism before I would slip back into reality. Despite these few moments of goodness, a majority of my days I spent tied up in discontent as I mulled over how trapped I felt eating worse-than-average college food on an uneventful college campus with a relatively uninvolved student body.
In reality, the only things that got me through my freshmen year were my motley crew of friends (especially my incredible roommate), my down-to-earth office hours chats with professors, and many 16 oz. iced mochas with oat milk. These few good things made me feel guilty for even thinking of transferring colleges. Seeing how my friends grew to love the school left me grasping at false hope, thinking one day I would wake up and magically feel as if I belonged at this institution. Instead, each day pulled me closer and closer to the idea of leaving.
Contrary to popular belief, transferring is not as easy as sending in another college application again. The transfer process is emotionally and mentally exhausting; it’s a process that I had to navigate on my own. It’s difficult enough trying to get through your freshman year of college, but it’s even more difficult to do so while going through the entire college application process again. As a non-traditional transfer student (a freshman from a four-year institution), I had little guidance on the best way to approach transferring schools. I anticipated that figuring out how to use the Common App for transfers, sending high school/college transcripts, researching transferable classes, and meeting credit requirements would be a struggle. But, it never occurred to me that an even bigger struggle would be unraveling that ever-growing knot within my chest.
For context, when I was a senior in high school, financial barriers prevented me from going out of state to attend my dream school, so I settled for a small, affordable in-state college. Having to relive this nightmare all over again as a transfer student only reopened a wound that never really healed. To my dismay, I discovered that transfer students (especially from four-year colleges), received much fewer scholarship opportunities than first-year students. If I couldn’t afford college as a first-year student even with significant scholarships, how was I supposed to afford college as a transfer student without any scholarships? Besides financial restrictions, I faced academic ones too. Regardless of my 4.0 GPA, extracurricular activities, and professor recommendations, I still had to worry: Did I have enough credit hours? Were enough of my classes transferable? What program requirements did I need to fulfill?
And so, worthlessness, regret, and trepidation held my heart captive. They tied a noose around the neck of my college dreams. No one prepares you for the agony of choking upon missed opportunities. I suffered through so many sleepless nights that I started to recognize my dorm room ceiling more than my own smile. Each morning I grieved all the different lives I could have lived if I attended a different institution in the first place. Living with this pain each day left me hanging on by a thread, a thread I watched fray as the weight of the knot in my chest pulled me further and further into depression.
Your college is your new home for the next four years. It’s not just where you go to school. It’s where you cultivate a new, independent life for yourself. However, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t imagine myself living there for another three years. If my future meant walking around a dead campus after eating terrible dining hall food and showering without hot water, quite frankly…I didn’t want it. What I needed more than anything was a fresh start.
With little hope and limited options, I started over. I never thought I would encounter anything more challenging than the college application process until I had to go through the transfer application process. I know that deep down the emotional and mental stress of it all will be bound to me beyond the next three years. Yet, I am hopeful that the opportunities of going to a big state university will free me more than a small suburban college. In a way, for better or for worse, it’s like being a freshman again. New environment, new people, new chances at trying to inhale and exhale without an ever-present tightness in my chest. I want to live each day not as a held breath, but as a wind of fresh air.
After you enroll at a new institution, everything begins to gain momentum. Once your transcripts get sent, your credits get evaluated, and your classes get chosen, you’ll find yourself already getting eager for orientation, convocation, and welcome week. At this moment in time, I’m straddled somewhere between hope and heartache: hope for the possibility of an invigorating college experience and heartache for the painful journey I had to endure.
Starting over isn’t just reserved for the refreshed and resilient; it’s for the worn and weary, for the dead-end dreams, for the rope-burnt souls that yearned to break free.
I’m ready to let loose.