Lessons from Freshman Year

September 2, 2024

Writer: Maddi Stapp

Editor: Allie Timmerman

I've had my share of bad luck—especially during freshman years. 

In high school, I transferred from a small private middle school, where I grew up with all 36 graduates and knew them like the back of my hand. Then, I suddenly found myself in a class of 360 students, knowing only one kid from my middle school—who happened to be my “ex.” If you can even call him an ex—we dated for two weeks and only held hands. I dressed like a middle-aged woman, not knowing how to dress myself after being in a uniform for years, and I felt like I had suddenly lost all social skills. My freshman year was lonely. My best friend was my mom, and I felt like I was missing out on the high school experience I was promised in the movies I watched growing up.

I decided I needed to make a change. I tried my best to find my people. I looked for people who smiled. The first person I noticed was a girl with thick blonde hair, the biggest eyes I had ever seen, and an energy that calmed everyone around her. She was in my health class. I started sitting next to her, and we began doing group work together. It took me a while to gain the courage to approach her. She was in the “popular” group—if that even exists—and all of her friends had been a solid friend group since second grade. But I took a risk. I asked her if she wanted to see a movie that weekend. She said yes. I thought I had made a mistake and that it was weird to ask. My dad wisely told me, “The worst she can say is no, but she likely won’t, and you’ll regret it if you don’t try.” And I would have. Aleah grew to be my best friend, my go-to call, the person who knew the worst sides of me, and my future maid of honor. Little did I know, while I thought she might think I was weird for asking, this is what she wrote in her journal for her goals for 2019: “Foster new friendships → Maddi?”

So, lesson one: no one evaluates you and judges you as much as you do. Lesson two: if you put yourself out there, the worst others can say is no, and if they do, they aren’t your people anyway.

Flash forward to freshman year of college. I once again found myself knowing no one. I had left behind my tight-knit friend group from high school and didn’t know where I belonged. Everyone dressed differently than I did—full faces of makeup, perfectly matching clothes, and hair curled for class. I wore athletic clothes most days because the Nashville heat was unbearable and caused me to sweat so much that workout clothes were the only thing that could combat it. I got COVID two weeks into school. Apparently, this was the week everyone found their friend groups, and they solidified. I once again found myself alone. I didn’t know where I belonged. Everyone seemed to have it together. Sound familiar? My dad said once again, “Just put yourself out there. The worst they can say is no.” So I turned to the girl who welcomed me on day one—a girl from a town called Sandwich, which was close to our house on the Cape. I realized that while I felt alone, she had always made the effort to maintain a friendship. She always grabbed coffee with me on Thursdays so we could keep up with each other’s lives. She never let me feel alone. She is now my roommate and my family at Vanderbilt. I like to say we are more like cousins than anything else. We fiercely defend each other and always provide each other a safe place to land. She is just one of the people who made me feel less alone.

This is all to say—it gets better. It really does. So if you feel unlucky and like everything is against you, remember: 1) You are never as alone as you think you are, and 2) People don’t judge you as harshly as you do, so take a risk and be vulnerable. If they don’t love you for that, they weren’t your people anyway. So, incoming freshmen, and anyone else who still feels a little lost and like they don’t have their people yet—know that it gets better. You deserve good people who love you for who you truly are, not who you think you should be to “fit in.”