I wish I could write my younger self a letter. I want to tell her all the amazing things that will happen in college and not to be so worried, but I also want to tell her the bad things that happen. I know time travel does not exist, so I cannot, and young me would be mad at current me for spoiling stuff. Instead I write this reflection on what I think have been important lessons I learned from my first semester of college. It takes time to adjust to new surroundings. I will not lie, the first night
past summer while I was working as a Counselor-in-Training at Camp Morasha. I, along with 40 other people my age, was assigned to bunks of kids ranging from ages eight to fifteen. I can still remember looking up at the list and seeing that I had been assigned to a bunk of nine and ten year olds. I felt violated because I felt that I deserved a bunk of older kids, not a bunk full of little children who had never heard of personal hygiene. After all, I had been a camper in this camp for seven years, much
experience was definitely something I was going to have to get use to. I lay in the top rack of my bunk, feeling sad and a little silly. I missed my family and friends and I felt silly for feeling so emotional and sad. I was surprised at how sad I was feeling and thought maybe I was being a baby. I turned my head to survey my surroundings and I took notice of the girl in the top bed of the bunk next to me. She was lying on her stomach resting on her elbows and crying as she wrote, probably a letter