In March of 2010, my college decision process had boiled down to one of two choices. One was, of course, Northwestern – a five-hour plane ride from home, a city and state I’d never been to before and weather that sounded like something from my worst nightmares. The other was a two-hour Caltrain ride away and an even shorter drive, where I knew I’d be surrounded by at least five of my friends from high school. At Northwestern, I would know absolutely no one.
I’ve always been somewhat of a baby (for lack of a better word), scared to take chances or try new things. It took me over a year after I got my license to drive on the freeway for the first time, and when I finally did it, it took me another six months before I tried again. Even after turning in my Common Application, the thought of leaving California for the Midwest was never something I had even considered until I got my acceptance letter.
I ended up choosing Northwestern largely because of its journalism program, but a not-insignificant part of me felt that if I finally took that leap, finally catapulted myself out of my hometown and into four years of terrifyingly new experiences, I would emerge from college an independent and worldly person, well-traveled and never homesick.
For a long time, it seemed like the opposite was happening – I cried so hard the first day of freshman move-in that my parents almost postponed their flight home to console me, and it often seemed like I lived my first year constantly on the verge of tears. I obsessively counted down the days until the next time I’d be able to go home and see my parents, my old friends, my sister, my dog. And when it came time to leave for Evanston, I’d always make sure I had booked my flight for my next return home, so I could begin counting down again.
I spent the entire summer after freshman year at home, freelancing sporadically and enjoying every minute of finally, finally being back. Sophomore year, I’d find myself listlessly scrolling through ticket prices mid-quarter, wondering how much it would cost to fly home for a weekend. I never did, but I often wondered why I hadn’t just taken that second option and stayed a little closer to home.
Most of this, I now realized, was because I hadn’t found my place at Northwestern yet – I was still solidifying friendships, getting used to navigating a new city, a new major and weather that I still consider unfit for humans. The less Northwestern felt like home, the more I clung to the one I had left behind.
However, as junior year progressed, things began to change – I found my niche, solidified my friendships and finally felt comfortable both in my classes and extracurriculars. Slowly (very slowly) but surely, I found my place here. Part of it was out of necessity – I was about to spend a summer in New York, even farther from home, and my journalism residency was in Washington, D.C. If all I ever looked forward to was my next trip home, I’d never be able to enjoy where I was.
I can tell you now that after four years, I truly do love Northwestern and Evanston and Chicago. Just as I feel like I’ve made a real home for myself here, it’s suddenly time to leave – but I guess that’s OK because, even though this next chapter will probably be equally terrifying, I know I can do it. I still count down the days until I get to go home, but not out of necessity or for my own sanity. Rather, it’s out of excitement and a genuine joy that comes from returning to where I’ve come from. And I should count myself lucky that I’m from a place so willing to welcome me back, every single time.
I’ve successfully managed four years without ever buying an impulse plane ticket back, lived in three major cities, traveled internationally by myself and seen parts of the Midwest that I probably would have never been to if I hadn’t come to Northwestern. And, more importantly, I think I’ve learned how to strike a balance. After graduation, I’m moving to Los Angeles, a five-hour drive from home instead of a five-hour flight – so I guess it’s a good thing that I finally learned to drive on the freeway. It’s close enough that I’ll be able to go home if I really need to, but far enough to keep a healthy distance. I’ve definitely benefited from being so far from home, but I can’t deny that I’m excited to be a little closer.
Priya served as Marketing Co-Director, Print Senior Design Editor, Print Creative Director and Print Managing Co-Editor for North by Northwestern.