My memory of my orientation week is at once both blurry and bright. I remember the helter skelter of moving into my Baldwin dorm, saying goodbye to family, and showing up late to (or forgetting) the required orientation events.
Of all the chaos that is orientation, and disorientation, week, there is one moment in particular that has stuck with me. It was, of course, the first night after my parents left. One of my friends called and told me to meet her and another cool girl she had met outside my dorm. My roommates were nowhere to be found and it felt pretty late, and as I walked out of the back door I found myself worrying, “should I tell someone what I’m going to do? Tell them that I’ll be back soon?” It was as if Jiminy Cricket whispered the answer into my ear: “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You’re a little more free now.” The joy of the answer sent excited nervous bubbles all through my belly and I actually squealed like a little girl as I dashed out the door and met my best friends, the three of us all alone in the moonlight.