I remember my first real day at Purdue. Waking up at 7:00 A.M, excited to learn about the subject that I have been egging about for god knows how long. Showering, brushing, and looking as good as ever so I could try and impress whomever I see. Why did I get so prepared? Maybe it was to catch the professor’s attention. Maybe it was to reel in some cutie that shares my interest in “physical activities”. Or maybe it was just so I could look damn fine for my first day. Beats me. I just know I grabbed my backpack, filled it to the brim with paper, binders, and pens and headed with my roommate and fellow computer science majors alike to class.

It was a pretty hot day admittedly. I wore jeans cause I wanted to look “good” but instead ended up sweating my ass off and walking like a poorly developed cowboy. Nevertheless, we finally got to the Class of 1950 lecture hall after what I think was a half a mile hike of hot excitement (hell of a walk from the dorm if I may say). Entering the hall was not just a breeze of cool air, it was also a breeze of intelligence. I know, cheesy, but it was so true. I was so ready to learn all about programming and all what’s it about. Artificial intelligence, mobile apps, video games, and all types of software raced through my mind. What I was gonna develop first I would keep repeating myself. With that, I sat down in the attached swivel chairs on a long table and began to listen to my future.

I was ready for everything! I knew what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I knew I was gonna get on the deans list. I knew I was gonna hang out with so many friends, old and new. I knew I was gonna go the gym at least four times a week. I knew I was gonna get all the girls that I laid my eyes on. I was gonna join all the clubs becoming an important member. I knew everything

I was wrong.

With second thoughts, 2.35 GPA, small group of friends, 20 extra pounds of fat, lonely love life, and no activities to go to…

I was wrong.

My classes and mind fell apart. I found myself rushing to finish an assignment even though I started hours before. In physics, I learned nothing and ended up killing my grade. In math, I got cocky and screwed myself over by not taking any of the exams seriously. Shoot, even in object oriented programming, the one thing I was excited for in college, killed me with tricky projects and damned vagueness. It was overwhelming. The burden on my shoulders created an incapacitated mind.

Nothing worked in my head, nothing at all. I was always too mentally exhausted to meet new people, afraid that I would come off weird or wrong or just plain fake. With that, there was so little I did other than eat, study, and sleep on the weekdays. I barely worked out, gaining double chins upon double chins. It ruined my chances with the ladies killing any other personal confidence that was left (well if I had any…never really tried). I used to play guitar to calm my soul, yet I would put it in the closet for weeks upon weeks forgetting that I even used to like music. I always looked toward the weekend. I would try to party as much as I can to get away from the insecurities of passing week. Weekend after weekend of making faux friends and blurred memories, I would think everything was better until I wake up the very next day, dreading what lies ahead.

However, I’m optimistic. I kept on thinking that I was overreacting and that I have been looking at it all wrong. I kept saying to myself how this semester was going fine. Maybe I was wrong, maybe this semester was going so well!

In all honesty, I had a rough first semester. I don’t mean rough like I haven’t put lotion on my dry hands rough, I mean rough like I fell into a thousand foot pit of sharpened sandstone from a personal hell. It was so rough that I had meltdowns when I had friends over at my house for a slightly not allowed get together, with my best friend in my car, and shoot, even one time on the campus. See, I don’t have meltdowns. If anything, I have meltups damn it! I don’t like showing negative emotion; I only like to spread laughter and happiness (Don’t laugh at that. I mean if you do, good for you, but screw you too). Sami, my best friend, told me that this might be a sign that I might need to do dive into myself some more. At first, I was a bit hesitant at the idea because I was scared at what I might see. So in response, I held back from searching deep.

It was few weeks into the new semester before I thought about what she said again and then it hit me. In the words of Miley Cyrus herself, it hit me like a wrecking ball. Was I happy?

The simple answer is no.

The complex answer is a little.

See, I love college! I love every little bit of it. The ability to learn in a mature learning environment is a privilege. The education is top notch. There is always a new person to meet when the moment arises. Opportunities are everywhere and are ripe for the picking. The friends that I have met are now some of the closest ones I have obtained. I've partied till the point of complete idiocracy and dumbassery, and loved every moment of those stupid moments. College is a new and beautiful world that is ready to be conquered. I obviously see why college is the one best times of of your living life.

But I started it wrong.

Instead of going to college for me; I went to college for others. Yes, I love people a ton. People and connecting with people are my passions. Sometimes too much. Sometimes I forget that I am a person too though. The problem was that I set up expectations based off what other people thought. I kept doing things that I thought would make people proud of me, love me, recognize me. I should have noticed my own feelings at the time. Instead, I was too hazed about the idea of others being proud of me getting my degree in something that I really never loved. I was always told that I loved it and I would agree. I would force myself indoors studying something that I didn't enjoy and think it was the right thing to do.

I wasn't happy with my choices and it tore me apart. It fractured my first semester for me. The only class that kept me going was my jazz class. It was amazing. I heard beautiful music, learned about wonderful musicians, and discovered the many layers of jazz. It was the only class I looked forward to every time I had it. Yes, it was pretty easy, but it also made me happy. I got to know my professor and actually would consider him a close acquaintance. That was my stress reliever, my happiness.

When I thought of what Sami said, all this went through my head. I did love college, but it just didn't feel right. I wasn't doing it right. That’s why I’m taking a stand.

This semester I’m going do things that are going to make me happy.

I’m gonna join the choirs and drama programs that I wanted to join…maybe.

I’m gonna look at a major that I love…most likely.

I’m gonna make more friends than ever…possibly.

I’m gonna get a date…doubtfully.

I’m gonna lose weight…hopefully.

I’m gonna get that GPA up…yes, yes to this one for sure.

Whats going to change is not the expectations or even the results. Expectations keep us on track and results remind us of reality. What’s going to change is that I’m not doing college for others, but now…I’m doing college for one person and one person only…

Me.