Dear Mom,

Let me start this by saying you’re the best mother around. Seriously.

Going to college helped our relationship immensely. Distance made our hearts grow fonder us stop arguing about nit picky text messages, my apparent attitude problem, and a seriously unfair curfew. But it hasn’t dissipated your tendency to worry about every last thing and while I may never “understand until I have kids”, I still think you can try and address this issue.

I have come to learn your severe overprotective nature is only out of love. In elementary school when I took a spill during the soccer match you didn’t care about running onto the field and stopping the game to check on your baby, even though I would just shrug it off. I remember when my dates would come pick me up in high school you insist that they come in and talk to you every time, no matter how badly I protested. And driving my friends around before the 6 months rule had passed after receiving my license? Forget about it.

And while I can now appreciate all of those little things you did that used to drive me crazy, it’s time to let go. I’m your last child to go to college, making you an empty nester, which I know only causes you to worry more.

I promise, I’m not an alcoholic, despite how movies display drinking habits in college. I’m definitely, not caught up in any “funny business” even though I don’t totally know what that means. And I still wouldn’t waste my time dating a guy who would treat me anything less than a princess, you’ve spoiled me way too much for that…

I know, I know, I really should call more. And that’s on me. College gets in the way of life sometimes, but I’m alive and well. I’m about to take the plunge into the real world, so trust me to take care of myself ok? But please, feel free to keep those care packages coming.

All of my love,

Your Rising Senior

Dear Tuffy Luv,
I have a dilemma. Currently I’m (only) 17 and a junior in high school, though I would like to think that I seem ‘beyond my years.’ At 5’11″, it is not uncommon for adults to think I am older, which can be fun when I’m out on the town with my girls and older guys spark up convos. Lately though, this whole maturity thing has seemed like more of a burden than a blessing. I’m tired of high school; the way teachers still view me as ‘a kid’, the petty drama, and as you can probably guess–the boys.

I have a great group of girl friends who I love so much, and we always manage to cook up some crazy nights out. When I go out with my friends to meet up with guys, they always expect me to get with whoever hits on me. This usually puts me in the awkward situation of being left alone with a Bieber look-alike, trying to form the best pickup line he can muster.

I know that I’m intimidating. I know that I am one of the ‘hot bitch girls who thinks she’s better than everyone.’ But the truth is that I feel so done with it. Most of the guys at my school seem so young, and aren’t very…intellectual. I really love to have actual conversations, no matter how wasted I am, which makes me seem stand-offish to guys who are trying to hook up. The guys who I find interesting are usually people I see being friends with, not hooking up with. At this point I just want to get to know older men, though I am seriously wondering if I might be gay, because I have no interest at all in the guys my age. I am so confused right now, so sorry if this doesn’t make sense. I just don’t see why my friends, who are gorgeous and intelligent, can be open to hooking up with tons of boys, whereas I have to be the one closed off to boys that don’t fit my ‘criteria.’ I would love to be the girl who left all inhibitions at the door, guy-wise. Advice would be great, or just reassurance that this is just a phase.

XOXO,
Men Not Boys

Dear Men Not Boys,

I actually don’t think you’re being unreasonable.

What the floop, I repeat, WHAT THE FLOOP made teenage boys think they can get with any girl they want?! Teenage boys, I’m sorry to break it to you, but you are at the absolute bottom of the dating food chain. You’re nasty. We know it, you know it. So why do you expect every girl you meet to suck face with you?! I want to say, teenage boys, that many of you will grow into yourselves. Someday, many of you will be decent men. Some will even be cool. But teenage boys–I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. But you’re nasty.

Okay, back to you, MNB. Yeah, seriously, totally don’t get with boys you’re not interested in. Seriously, what’s the point?! They’ll have a good time, you’ll be washing their slime off and wishing you’d just hung out with your friends.

But this question has so many parts, and, frankly, I think that’s the least of them.

You’re tired of being treated like a kid. I’m sorry, kid, but you ARE a kid. As long as you’re in high school, you have to understand that you’re gonna be considered a teenager. Because, um, you are one. But never fear!! There are two ways around this:

(1) Act more responsible and mature. That doesn’t mean act like a Know-It-All-Too-Amazingly-Mature-For-All-This teenager (because, and you don’t know this yet, but that is a definite type that the 21+ crowd loves to hate). It means be kind to people, stay cool and composed even when you’re annoyed, and succeed in as many areas of your life as you possibly can.
Or…
(2) Grin and bear it till you leave for college.

I suggest option #1.

But, in the meantime, there’s this third/fourth situation(s), which is (are?!) whether or not you should pursue older men, or if, in fact, you are a lesbian.

Well, honey, it’s okay not to know. Sexual identity is fluid, baby. Just lay back and enjoy the ride.

Which is such a simplistic way of putting it. Okay, maybe you’re a lesbian. Maybe you’re bi. Maybe you’re straight and you just haven’t had enough experience to know yet. Or maybe you’re just bored in high school and want to try something new. (Anyone watch the British “Skins?” Tony?? Yeah???) Any way is fine. Don’t rush into labeling yourself. Enjoy spending time with both genders and don’t get caught up in thinking inside the box. …No pun intended.

[KIDS. DON'T GIVE AUNT TUFFY A HEART ATTACK. ALWAYS USE PROTECTION. Condoms and dental dams and all that, yes?! Here's a pretty fun article on safe sex for lesbians.]

So, okay. Maybe you’re a lesbian, maybe not. Tuffy has no idea. And either do you. And that’s okay. You’re gonna have a good (but safe) time and try things out until you find what’s wrong. But you’re ONLY gonna try it out with people YOU’RE interested in, NOT people who try to pressure you into it, like the boys you mention in your question. You hear me?! Men or women, but only people YOU’RE interested in.

Older men are actually more complicated. This is because, when someone is significantly older, the power automatically shifts in someone’s favor. It might be yours (he’s so entranced by this hot young thing at his side!), but, more likely, it’s his (he has the freedom, he has the experience, and, most significantly, he has the money). I’m not saying to NOT date older men. If you find the right guy, I mean, hey, love is love. But don’t just hang out with any old creepster who offers to buy you a drink. Old guys are often just as skanktastic as young guys–they’ve just had time to get better at hiding it.

But never, ever let anyone tell you that you suck because you want to, you know, actually WANT someone you’re gonna hook up with. This is 2011, girl. You can hook up with whoever you like–IF you want to.

Hearts & Skulls,
Tuffy Luv

[Got anything to add to Tuffy's advice? Let it all out below. Oh, and get more Tough Love right here. You know, if you’re into that sort of thing.]

I’ve decided recently, while lying naked in my bed after a shower (try it—it might just be the greatest thing about being home) that this break is 5% nostalgia, 25% catching some Z’s, 20% eating and 50% flat out weird.

While it’s great to see old friends and talk about that one girl in our class who got married in a hush hush courtroom wedding, or to share in on the somberness and tears of the death of our classmates’ family members, such events are not just fodder for ladies’ “let’s catch up!” sessions. More than that, they mark a tangible milestone of the passing of our high school years and the reclamation of something a bit more personal.

I’ve always held my life motto to be that I don’t take myself too seriously—and yet, maybe, taking yourself seriously is what going to college is all about. But in a different sense than what I’d ever thought about.
My good guy pal (who also decided to go to school out of state) attended our high school basketball game last weekend. To him, it was weird sitting in the college section, seeing all the high school girls clad in Ugg boots, visibly clinging to any tentacle of popularity, and all the high school guys standing chests puffed and arms crossed, the picture of hetero manliness. It was weird seeing all these doppelgangers of ourselves past adhering to the unwritten standards of our mainstream Midwest conservative high school. It was weird realizing that we were those people, just a year ago. And it was most disconcerting of all to recognize that we no longer are.

It might be more obvious to those of us who decided to forsake going to our state school, or those who went to state school, but made a group of new friends, but the constraints that once held together the social fiber of 4 (maybe more) years of our lives have become as extinct as Tyrannosaurus Rexes.

Though we’ve only left high school for 6 months, we’re already growing up. People got married. People died. People understood that there is a world wider than the halls of our high school.

Of course, there are people who don’t realize it—some of my friends, some of my former classmates in my class of 756, and even I, sometimes, have had a difficult time adjusting to life outside of those social constraints. And so, we reach back, for our glory days, for what we’re comfortable with. We sometimes transfer colleges after first semester to be with old friends. We sometimes alienate new experiences by only remembering Prom 2010. We sometimes forget what it’s like to adjust and make changes and to take our individual selves seriously.

The past can pull everyone in. Sweet nostalgia is probably more addictive than heroin. But over these first few days of winter break, when I’ve been steeped in old friends and good times and nostalgia, I’ve realized that college is the time to take your own self seriously. To forget about all the standards of high school and instead, to find what we all really want out of our own lives.

Weird that after 4 months in a college classroom learning more than I ever have in my life, it only took 4 days at home to learn the biggest lesson of all.

Margaret’s been through a lot during her first semester at college. Check out what else she’s been dealing with all semester long.

Student loans have turned me into a Grinch this Christmas.

Even though Christmas is on Saturday, I honestly couldn’t care less this year. With everyone around me so happy and festive, I feel like the odd-woman-out. However, I think I have a decent excuse. Instead of “Jingle Bell Rock” in my head and busy days spent shopping at the mall, I’m singing the Student Loan Blues while staring at my empty bank account.

Ugh. Student loans.

If you graduated last spring and have student loans, you probably feel the same way I do right now considering our loan repayment grace period is over: in over your head! Although I knew this reality was coming, I guess I never thought it would hit me this hard and scare me this much. And I’ll be the first to say, I’m scared that these loans I had to take out to go to college will ruin the rest of my life.

Maybe I’m exaggerating a bit much, but right now, they certainly feel like they are taking hold of my entire life. In order to make payments so I’m in good standing with the lenders, I had to dish out the cash this month to get my payment record off to a good start. And boy, has it hurt. Christmas presents? Yeah … no one I know will be getting one from me. Not even the homemade variety. Will I be getting to see my boyfriend anytime soon? Nope, I don’t have the cash to pay for a plane ticket (ugh, another lovely benefit of being in a long-distance relationship). I can’t help but wonder “Will I ever have money again?”

Now, I probably sound like a Debbie downer, but it’s easy to feel downtrodden and stressed when it seems like you have a whole life ahead of you … centered around owing someone a ton of money. However, I do keep telling myself that one day my college degree will pay off … so maybe it wasn’t a terrible thing after all? Maybe?

This is where I keep my fingers crossed.

See, I couldn’t have gone to college without student loans. It wouldn’t have been possible for me – regardless of what school I attended or what I studied. And while I went to college to try and better myself, I feel like these loans are setting me back. How can I get ahead with this constantly looming over my head? And how am I supposed to embrace law school – with even MORE loans – when I have yet to pay off these ones?

Everyone has their own stance on student loans. Some people want pity and make websites where people can donate money to them. Some people work three jobs. Others default and don’t care about the consequences. Some live with their parents until they are 35. While I went to college not to become a statistic, I can’t help but worry about what the future may hold in the adult world of credit scores, repayments, and financial responsibility. Will I be living here with my dad forever? Will I be one of those people who has debt collectors knocking down her door?

But none of that really matters because what’s done is done. I took out the loans and now, unfortunately, I have to pay them back. Every month. For a long while. It sure sucks, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out like every post-grad with loans before me and the many more that are in the same boat as me now.

At least, that’s what I’m telling myself as the statements begin to pour in….

So Santa, if you’re reading, you could cut me a check for Christmas and pay all the loans back. You know, if you feel generous. I promise I’ve been a very good girl this year. This could make up for all those years I wanted a puppy and never got one. Think of it as a Christmas miracle!

So besides information I now know about the international criminal court and how to conjugate Spanish verbs, here is some life knowledge that I’ve gained:

Do not bring a lot of t-shirts from high school: This is more of a personal issue. I have so many Class of 2010/National Honor Society/Cross Country t-shirts that I don’t know what to do with them. After assessing my clothes situation the other day, I realized that I don’t even wear those shirts since they’re irrelevant and instead, I could fill that closet space with better clothes.

If you hook up with a guy that you know, make sure you see him the next day to avoid future awkwardness: This is a tried and true method, my friends. If you don’t see him the next day, the awkwardness and overanalysis of the previous confrontation just builds up and then explodes in your face later on. By seeing him, you re-establish a chill connection immediately after the hookup and it doesn’t give you (or him) time to overanalyze and freak out.

Take fruit from the dining halls: Guys, scurvy isn’t a joke. Neither is cookie addiction. If all you have in your room is junk food, that’s all you will eat at night. However, if you have some carefully and sneakily procured fruit on your desk, you could add a little bit of healthy vitamin C to your night-snacking diet.

Don’t be afraid to take early morning classes if you love the class: Yeah, you’ll be tired, but loving the class is great incentive to wake up for it. As an added bonus, being awake longer gives you more time to accomplish stuff. And yes, catching up on old episodes of ‘Teen Mom’ counts as accomplishing something.

Work out if you’re having trouble sleeping: If you typically don’t work out and find yourself being an insomniac lately, take that step into the gym and work out a little bit. Even if it’s just walking on the treadmill for half an hour, it’ll help you get to sleep at night (not to mention help your butt look better come bikini season).

Do not depend on other people to help you with your econ homework: While this can be tempting, because doing homework together helps both of you learn more, if one person starts to slack, the other person will typically start to slack. Do your homework on your own, and if necessary, check with another person who you know is dependable.

Have bonding nights with your roommates during finals week: Finals week can be a really stressful time and you’ll see your roommates a lot less than you usually do. Take a group study break and pop in Love Actually; it’ll be better than a massage.

Hopefully I’ll remember everything that I’ve learned from this portion of my life and use it for next year and beyond, but until then, what are some life lessons you guys have learned over this semester?

Margaret’s been through a lot during her first semester at college. Check out what else she’s been dealing with all semester long.

It's the moment of truth, little lady.

We’re well into another new school year and to honor that, we at CollegeCandy are bringing back the fan-favorite series, “We’ve All Been There.”  (We tried to get another national holiday/long weekend for you guys but it’s way harder than we thought so this will have to do.) Every week, Lauren from the University of Michigan will comment on the common experiences all college women share – like class registration, the dreaded muffin top or, everyone’s favorite activity, procrastinating. Read, relate, cringe and enjoy.

Your boxes are unpacked, your bed is made, and your parents have left the building. You are officially a college student.

Woohoo! No more living under their rules. You are a free adult livin’ the dorm life. It takes a few days of getting used to, but you’re finally feeling settled. You’ve even sorta mastered the cafeteria slop. This whole college thing isn’t so hard after all.

That is, until you need to do a little #2 in the public bathroom down the hall. The one every other girl on the hall also frequents to shower, wash up, dry her hair, and do her business. Girls you don’t know. Girls you want to befriend. Feeling the stage fright, you’ve been unable to go for days and, between the cafeteria salad bar (roughage!) and the frat party jungle juice, it’s been rather difficult.

But now it’s time and you have no choice but to suck it up, drop the pants, and take care of business.

The feeling hits you fast. You drop everything you are doing (read: log off of Facebook) and do a little walk/run to the bathroom. You fumble with your keys as you unlock the door, then quickly pull it closed it behind you. You listen for anyone in the shower. You can hear some water running, so you scurry into a stall before anyone can see your face. After safely securing your door, you crouch down to see if any of the other stalls are in use. Thankfully, you are alone.

You turn to the toilet and notice some splash on the seat. You bend down and get in close to determine if it is some inconsiderate squatter’s pee, or maybe a little splash back from the toilet. Regardless of what it is, you are going to have to wipe it up before you let your precious cheeks hit the seat.

You grab a giant handful of toilet paper and wad it up, creating a thick barrier between your hand and the toilet seat. Then, gagging and turning your face away from the situation, you quickly wipe the seat, toss the paper in the toilet and flush it with your foot.

Phew. Now you’re ready.

You sit down and mentally prepare for your first public poop when you hear the door open and a few girls walk in.

“OhMyGod,” you think to yourself. “I can’t go with these girls in here! What if I make loud noises? What if I make the bathroom smell? They may see me or recognize my leopard print slippers! It’s social suicide.” You contemplate sitting silently until they leave, but it seems they are doing the same thing. Besides, after 10 days of zero bowel activity, holding out is really not an option. So you go with plan B: distraction.

You begin coughing, tapping your foot, and rolling and unrolling the toilet paper – anything to cover the sounds of what is happening in stall #3. Though it’s not the ideal sitch (and it’s nearly impossible to do your business and cough at the same time), you do manage to complete your task in a timely fashion without any embarrassing sounds or smells (well, really offensive ones, anyway), and even sneak out of the bathroom before anyone in the neighboring stalls can see your face. Or the sweat marks under your arms.

Yesssss, success!

– Yeah, we’ve all been there and it’s awkward. But if there’s anything we learned it’s that Everybody Poops, so don’t be afraid. By the end of the semester, you’ll be taking magazines, books and even your laptop in there with you and chatting with the girl next door. You may even wonder how you ever did it alone.

Halloween in college is a big deal.  Major, really.  You may have thought you hit your trick-or-treating peak in the 3^rd grade when you wrapped yourself in tinfoil and went out as leftovers, but think again.  Unlike Christmas, the 4^th of July, and Thanksgiving, everyone’s on campus for this most hallowed of evenings and the booze will absolutely be flowing (perhaps in cauldrons).

From fog machines to technicolor jello shots, there’s a lot of stimuli to process and as a freshman it’s easy to get overwhelmed.  But novice or otherwise, you’ve got to keep your head, wigged or otherwise, in the game.  Here’s what you can expect as your favorite bars and frat houses become unrecognizable with silly string…

A General Lack of Pants
From dozens of Risky Business-era Tom Cruises to sexy cats/bees/fairies/mice, there will be maximum leggage come October 31^st.  I’m not sure what it is about “everyone dress up crazy” that translates to things being purely pants-optional, but it’s a fact: ass cheeks will show, cellulite will be on parade, hairy man thighs will make a one-night-only appearance.

Dry Ice
Is it edible?  Will it kill you?  Why did those stupid pledges have to go stick it in the jungle juice and ruin a perfectly good concoction?  No, it doesn’t look like witches’ brew.  And the fact that he’s 22 and just drew that connection makes you question his sanity.

Drinking on an Off-Night
This year Halloween falls on a Sunday, and though you’ll be getting Friday and Saturday usage out of your costume, you can’t retire it before the actual holiday.  So in anticipation of this three-day face painted bender, don’t be your usual procrastinating self.  Figure out what work you’ve got due Monday and do it.  Yes, this is your mother speaking.  And your econ professor.  And your better judgment.

Cops, Both Real and Fake
If you’ve seen Hocus Pocus (AKA the greatest Halloween movie of our childhoods), you’ll remember the scene where the main kid approaches what he thinks is a cop to tell him that the town’s being haunted by Sarah Jessica Parker and Bette Midler.  Well, take heed all you first-timers.  On Halloween, not all cops are real and not all seemingly fake cops are fake.  Before you pee on the side of that building or resist arrest, make sure you know what you’re dealing with.

Orange and Black Puke
More than welcome week, more than your first tailgate…November 1^st will hurt.  A lot.  And lest you forget what holiday it was you just celebrated, the orange and black Tostitos you consumed and subsequently puked up should tip you off.

Upperclassmen: Did we forget anything?

[Meet Margaret, a freshman at Yale. We've been checking in with her every week to see what she's doing, who she's meeting and what new college surprises she's tackling (or freaking out about) as she embarks on the journey we call college. Or as I like to call it, the best thing since Trader Joe's Honey Greek Yogurt. That is, until midterms season hits, of course.]

So I’m new at this whole midterms thing. The idea that I’ve been more or less lounging around for the past 6 weeks and then – wham! – I’m hit with a test that’s worth 40% of my grade…that’s kind of crazy.

Needless to say, this past week has been an acne-inducing, sleep-lacking, chocolate-eating cram week. But, terrible as it was for my complexion and caloric intake, I have to say that this week has definitely taught me some things about studying.

First, it’s much easier to not stress about midterms if you actually know what’s going on in class. I’ve been going to class, but this was definitely problematic for a lot of my classmates. In a lecture of 400 people about something as non-stimulating as econ, it’s easy to doze off. But unfortunately, while you are dreaming about your next Halloween costume, your professor is actually saying important things. Even though my professor puts his notes online, so many of his notes are things where you have to fill in graphs and equations that you learn about in class. Bottom line, try your best not to fall asleep in class and then have to teach yourself everything the week before the exam.

Second, if you’re like me, you need to switch up your study places. The library treats me nicely – it’s quiet and there are comfy chairs – but after a while, I start losing focus. I find myself stalking my friend’s older sister on Facebook rather than studying the marginal revenue of labor and that’s when I realize that it’s time for a location change. Colleges have tons of other places to study besides the library and your dorm — common rooms, unused classrooms (the dry erase board makes them perfect for group study sessions), cafes. Sometimes all I need to do is find a place where there is no risk of running into someone that I know.

Third, sleep is actually kind of important, as are pre-sleep rituals. So this only sort of has to do with studying, but you know how you always are able to concentrate better when you feel refreshed? Studying’s the same way. You can’t focus well if you’re not well rested and in the same line of thought… while it’s so tempting to crash without washing your face or brushing your teeth, you feel so gross when you wake up. Push yourself to go spend 10 minutes in the bathroom to get yourself ready for bed.

Fourth, exercise outside, or at least go submerge yourself in nature. After 5 hours holed up in a library staring at a computer screen and your notebook, you are lacking some serious fresh air. There’s even this thing called the “biophilia hypothesis” that speculates that humans need nature and greenery in order to be happy. So tear yourself away from the computer screen, go outside, and take a walk.

And lastly, do the practice tests, problems, essays that your professors give you. Pretend you’re in test taking mode, too. It’ll really show you what you need to study and what you already know. Then, look at your notes. If you look at your notes for too long, there’s a tendency to fall asleep. And then you’re not studying.

Midterm season is a stressful time for all of us, do you have any tips to relieve the suffering?

[Meet Margaret, a freshman at Yale. We've been checking in with her every week to see what she's doing, who she's meeting, and what new college surprises she's tackling (or freaking out about) as she embarks on the journey we call college. Or as I like to call it, the best thing since Trader Joe's Honey Greek Yogurt.]

Okay, so I am completely not a hippie. Let me just get that out there. Incense makes me sneeze, middle-of-the-forehead headbands make me look like an awkward boy and I own nothing made of hemp.

All that being said, I really do value the idea of finding inner peace and the feeling of “chillness.” So much so that one of my favorite teachers pegged me as the type who would go off to college and become one of those offbeat Bohemian types. Like Ashley Olsen.

And I clung to that idea—the idea that college would be a time for lots of self-pondering, free of nagging parents and 7 hour school days. I would ideally sit underneath a tree reading Whitman surrounded by perpetually tan Frisbee players and crooning guitar boys singing love songs aimed indirectly at me. And I would feel self-actualized and understand the deeper version of myself and be eternally fulfilled.

Well this little fantasy has turned out to be flat out false.

Instead of having time to myself to ruminate and think, I am constantly surrounded by people. Not that I don’t love people. The opposite is true; I feed off of others’ energies and socialize like I’m paid to do it. My second grade teacher oftentimes had to tell me to do special tasks like washing glue sticks because I would distract people from their work if I sat at the same table with them for too long.

But to be constantly surrounded by people, to be surrounded by the stressed, the tired, the angry, the lovesick, the alcoholic-who-doesn’t-realize-it-yet, the overachiever, the underachiever. . .it can all be a little overwhelming. I mean, where does time to yourself go? Where’s my me time? My alone time? My self-reflection by the tree time? Even when I used to have the time before I went to sleep to think, now that time is filled up with chats with my roommate. And those mind-clearing night walks around my neighborhood? Gone. Every safety video I’ve seen here has told me that my little habit makes me a prime target for rape.

So where does an over-stimulated freshman find time for herself? It’s taken some time but I’ve found a few quiet moments to find my inner peace:

I try to wake up early and eat breakfast. Usually not that many people eat breakfast. In order to ensure that I eat by myself, I make myself look way busier than I actually am. Typically, I’ll open a textbook or a newspaper and pretend to absorb myself in it as people walk by and soak up my solitude.

I take walks inside of campus at night. Okay so this isn’t nearly as good as walking wherever I want, but it’s still nice. And if I see a vacant bench, usually I’ll sit down and do some good thinking there.

I savor my time in the shower. A bit awkward, but showers are a nice little respite of actual alone time. And if you are in a really difficult situation where you need to talk to yourself (. . .it happens to me a lot, you guys, no judging), typically, people can’t hear you over the shower.

I kick my roommates out to the library. Not in a cruel way – more in a “I’m helping you” way. Because usually they’ll say something like “I can’t focus,” and then start talking, and then I casually suggest that the library helps with focusing. It’s okay, my roommates do it to me too.

I hang out in the laundry room. This is actually very peaceful. The whirling of the dryer cycles are kind of hypnotizing. Try it.

College brings about a lot of change and sometimes we all need a moment alone to stop and digest it all. It’s hard to find when you’re constantly surrounded by people, but look for it. It may not be under a tree in the quad, but wherever it is, you’ll be glad you found it.

[Meet Margaret, a freshman at Yale. We've been checking in with her every week to see what she's doing, who she's meeting, and what new college surprises she's tackling (or freaking out about) as she embarks on the journey we call college. Or as I like to call it, the best thing since Trader Joe's Honey Greek Yogurt.]

In high school, I had a clear label. I was Ms. Student Government, Ms. Good Grades, Ms. Overachiever. And even though all of our years of primary schooling have told us that labels are totally, totally terrible and that we should define people by their true selves and inner lights, etcetera, Oprah wisdom, etcetera, Oprah wisdom, I’m just going to say this: I heart labels.

Because for some reason, rather than being stifled and held down by my defined structural cocoon of a label, I ultimately felt freer to be anyone I wanted to be. Completely ridiculous, right? Yeah.

By being known as the Smart Girl, I no longer had to prove that part of myself. It was like, I could be flexible. I could get a B on a paper, I could forget to do my homework, I could bomb an English test, but I would still be known as the Smart Girl. I mean, I guess it’s kinda like how Paris Hilton could potentially save puppies and ace an LSAT, but she always has that Party Girl image. Except, the opposite, you know?

It’s like, when you have a defined label, all you need to do is be like, “But wait, that label is not all that defines me.” And wham, you can do whatever you want and you surprise people because obviously Real You is so much more interesting than Labeled You.

So now, I’m in this totally awkward phase of being label-less. Now, according to Tyra and self-help books everywhere, I should be in a state of bliss. I mean, no one is judging me based on…anything, right? I should feel free to do whatever I want.

But I feel so trapped, you guys! Because now whatever step I take defines me—it’s like, I don’t have that fallback of Smart Girl anymore, because a) everyone here is smart, and b) I totally still have left over Senioritis from last year, and, let’s face it, I definitely got a C on my first Spanish assignment. So now I’m just like everyone else… or worse, Bad Spanish Girl. And that just doesn’t sit well with me.

I think I’ll eventually figure things out and get comfortable with being whoever I am; for now though, I’m recognizing how much I depended on labels throughout my formative years.

Goodbye Smart Girl, hello _______?

[Follow Margaret's freshman adventures right here.]