Butterflies

I stared out the window blankly, twirling my now too short hair between my fingers as I often do. “You’re nervous,” Micaela said simply, but it seemed to be an accusation at the time. “I am not!” I snapped at her. My sister knew me too well. She knew that I could never play in a Carl’s Jr. play place and not be smiling when I got back in the car, unless I was very preoccupied. She could see right through me. I was absolutely terrified.

 

It had been a few months since I received the invitation to UCSD’s Academic Connections program. I had dreamt about it for a long time, but when it came down to actually leaving, I panicked. On the inside, of course. I couldn’t have my parents aware that their independent child was really sitting in the back seat, worried that she couldn’t get over the stupid butterflies in her stomach.

 

I briefly considered telling my Dad that I couldn’t go through with this, take me home. If we hadn’t already paid, I probably would have. Still, I knew that everything I gave up for this program would go to waste if I quit now. So I put my game face on and pretended to be fascinated with the scars and bruises on my legs, never making eye contact.

 

I was particularly scared for dinner on that first night. I didn’t know anybody. Who was I going to sit with? That question haunted me subconsciously all day. Thankfully, as soon as I met my roommate, Stephanie, we instantly bonded. As the weeks wound on, I realized she was pretty much an extension of my being. We spent most of our time together, laughing hysterically at things that probably weren’t that funny and watched everyone around us come to the conclusion that we were crazy.

 

My three weeks at UCSD were hands down the best days of my life, so far. Academic Connections was different from anything I had ever experienced. Actually having the power to decide how to spend my own time (within boundaries) was so new to me. And now it’s almost over. In two weeks I’ll be back in high school. My teachers won’t do the sprinkler standing on an office chair like Sam. Even worse, I’ll have to actually make plans and get permission to do so.

 

Still, I feel like I have changed so much, hopefully for the better. I’ve come so far from the apprehensive little girl I was three weeks ago. In the words of Carrie Underwood, “Some pages turned, some bridges burned, but there were lessons learned.” I learned so much more than just how to write nut graphs and how to make a rad friendship bracelet.

 

I learned that sometimes the things that change you are the things that happen outside of the classroom. It’s the late night stories and the nearly broken thumbs and the almost kisses and the parties you blew off to run through the sprinklers that help make the AC experience worthwhile.

 

It’s trying to do the jerk down the stairs and automatic doors not opening when they should and being serenaded by a patio full of boys and dancing until someone sets off a stink bomb in the crowd that make you realize how beautifully ridiculous your life can be sometimes.

 

And it’s screaming in the elevator and collapsing into fits of laughter and smuggling hash browns in your back pocket and falling off your bunk and making other people uncomfortable that make you realize that you love every crazy detail of the crazy life you live.

 

For me, it took an extraordinary leap out of my comfort zone to find that while I was content, there is always room to grow. If I never stop reinventing myself, my possibilities are endless. I can’t wait to get home and tell Micaela what I have finally found. There is so much out there to learn, if you can just get passed the butterflies.

 

-Tabitha Lawrence