I didn't understand why everyone was feeling so disconnected after Frosh. For me, a new time had begun, I had so much energy, I knew so many people. I was buzzing with excitement, with the need to keep up a fantastic start and continue to do more for the college I had so quickly grown to love. Being recognized, being known, and being seen meant so to someone that thought they'd just remain a someone, a melancholic face in the crowd, so far away from home. I was challenged, I was driven, and sure enough, the fall came masked in many ways.
Just when I felt I got to grips with things, or started to get a grip on getting a grip, life pulled the rug. There I went, twirling sideways, whirling all the rationality out of my decisions and like a spinning top, I was dizzy, directionless but always in motion for some weird reason. Every atom of my body appeared to be in collision with something, constantly fighting the urge to give up, or to give in to nostalgia, to negative emotion, or to the erratic currents of thought that tried to take the best away.
I had packed away 18 years of my life into two suitcases to move into my sister's downtown apartment first semester. The second, I moved to Newmarket into my new family home where I'd be eagerly waiting for summer- my whole family would eventually be making the big move from Dubai to Canada. It seemed like change was something constant everyday. It is when I look back that I realise that everything I knew about myself had totally changed.
I lost my fear and apprehension at Frosh. I found it again soon enough when I started to really get into my studies here. The fear of making it through first year with a 3.0, getting into my subject Posts, the fear of another failed midterm. The apprehension to connect with people again was fuelled by the cold unsettlement I started feeling because I missed home. I missed the security, I missed knowing what it was like to have my best friends around. I was uncomfortable in my own skin. The house felt empty, it felt temporary.
My life had gone so far in such short time. The university helped guide and encourage my interests; singing at open mic nights and the WW art showcase, helping out with the UTSU, reading poetry and articles in various college papers, and following the debate on the survival of women's varsity rugby in UTSG to name few. Just as I started the semester, I was already running for the First-Year student director, being exposed to student politics and so many extracurriculars, juggling my studies and relationships, and I was out of breath.
I got so tired because I was actually trying to get the little things right: get to class on time, deliver on my deadlines, ask questions, keep in touch with friends from home, and hold my own above all.
If I had to say anything to my fellow first-years, it would be this: first year ran right through us leaving holes in all of us, some managed to get theirs filled, others still walk around trying to figure what the means the most, what will bridge the insatiable gap between silence and action. Do the little things, get back to the basics. Go to a poetry slam, visit the greenhouse or check Queens St. West out. Do what makes you happy because if there's anything that UofT's drilled into my brain, its that time is so totally irreplaceable and your sanity is too.
If you want to know if it ends, it doesn't. YOU get better though. How? You have to stop, and when you do, take a breather, and look back to work backwards; its a good way to know how much time you have left and how much time you need to move forward. These next few years are all about you. Make them worth remembering.
