In high school english class, we always learned about different types of conflicts. Man v man involved an argument between two people. Man v environment is self explanatory.
A good example of the third type of conflict, man v self, is my current internal struggle.
Fresh out of high school, I wanted to be a music teacher in the worst way. I was so excited to start learning, and singing, at a collegiate level. But when I was denied at my first choice school, I scheduled a last minute audition at another college. I was wait-listed, and eventually denied admittance to their school of music. Determined to show them they made the wrong choice, I spent the next semester as a liberal arts student at Fredonia State, while studying voice with their professors, participating in two choirs, and also taking band.
I auditioned for spring semester, and was denied again. My two strikes were up, and I had to leave, or change majors. I left.
I left the school that I loved, where my cousin, my best friends, and my boyfriend were all going to school. Where it snowed, and we had a beautiful campus, and we had Starbucks. I left on a round of 5 more auditions, finally getting accepted to the Crane School of Music, and feeling pride that I had proven Fredonia’s faculty wrong.
And then I got to Crane.
I’ve never been a person that can stay unhappy for very long. But the first 2 months of my time at Crane can only be described in one word: depression.
Being 4 hours away from home meant that I couldn’t just go home whenever I wanted. It meant I couldn’t see my sisters’ volleyball games. I couldn’t see my dogs. I couldn’t kiss my boyfriend, or have pizza night with my family and our friends.
I shut down, I didn’t make friends. I went to classes and went back to my room. I did all my homework, went to bed on time, ate every meal by myself. Most nights I cried myself to sleep while considering other career paths. I was hellbent on dropping out.
I made friends with Nicole, and slowly but surely she started to pull me out of the pit I was in. She’d invite me to dinner, and we’d do homework together. More and more I started to realize how much time I had wasted being sad. I met Nicole’s friends, and they became my friends, too. And after a month-long winter break and some much needed boyfriend time, I reluctantly came back to Crane.
I spent the week before moving back in on the internet, looking for another college to go to. Physical Therapy Assistant programs. I realized that I was very late in applying to other colleges, but I’m still looking. Now that I’m back to Crane, though, I’m starting to remember the feeling I had back during high school, where I could only ever picture myself in front of a high school choir, doing the same work that my chorus teacher did. Since high school, I have received nothing but support from my family, friends, teachers, and the community. I have networked my ass off. I have volunteered for every gig since I first went to college, in the hopes of strengthening my musical resume. I managed a 3.78 overall GPA last semester and made the President’s List.
And this semester, I want to rediscover why I fought so hard to get here. There are so many people that would kill to take my spot in Crane, but it’s mine for a reason. I’m still trying to figure out if this is where I belong, but I’m taking it one step at a time.