A big thing that people associate with college is the concept of independence;you’re on your own for the very first time in your life. You are the one who has to provide food for yourself, set up how you’ll pay bills, schedule your own doctor appointments, etc. etc. blah, blah, blah.
It’s a lot, to say the least.
One of those steps, that not everyone takes, is getting your own apartment. That’s the big moment. You’re committing to paying for your very own space that only you, and maybe a few roommates, can keep orderly.
The concept was very attractive to me.
Half of my freshman year I spent dreaming about the record player set up I could have when I finally got an apartment. It would be my very own space, to do whatever I want with, it’s a goal I shot for right when I moved out to college.
The dorms are great for a sense of community, but it’s hard to compare to having your own apartment.
That’s what I took for granted while I lived in the dorms—that there are so many people around, all willing to get to know you and maybe even become a friend. That connection is lost when you move out to an apartment, especially when you live alone—a choice I made this year.
After spending 6 months, going on 7, in my $525 single room apartment, I question how much I enjoy what many would define as “independence.”
The very first example sentence of the word “independence” in the online Merriam Webster dictionary is, “She asserted her independence from her parents by getting her own apartment.”
When I got my application for the apartment approved, I really felt like I was doing it all, like I had made it in the independent game.
Those first few weeks of living by myself felt like a dream come true. That expectation of forming into the person I should become since I’m an “adult” came to fruition. Even just paying for my first electricity bill was such an “adulting” moment for me. I started decorating rooms how I wanted to and now it looks like a pop culture historian threw up all over my walls.
Over time though, that rush of being independent started to wear off. After a month it came down to me just spinning records, watching movies, and cooking. By myself.
There’s no turning to your roommate to ask if they want to run out to Sonic for a late night snack. There’s no watching movies at the theater without having to awkwardly ask a friend if they’d be willing to go with you.
The daily routine starts to feel so empty, especially if you’re not extremely social.
It started to feel like I was missing what was supposed to make college so important for people in the first place. Not that it was just a place to be your own person, but to grow with others to become who you are at your core.
As much as college might market itself as a drive for a student’s independence, we are all dependently social creatures at the end of the day. That inherent need for human connection shows its face every time you wake up in the morning.
Maybe you had a dream and you just have to tell someone about it as soon as possible because it’s the most ridiculous thing ever. Maybe you have to ask someone a burning question that you’ve been thinking about for days and need to finally get out. Maybe you just need a “hello” and a hug to make your day a little better.
The independence I’ve had from living in an apartment by myself has only shown me how important people are to me. To everyone.
It makes me appreciate those little interactions I have passing by someone in the hallway and doing a little wave. Even though days are filled with lots of empty pockets of doomscrolling and homemade nachos, I can’t help but enjoy the happiness I get from a friend reaching out, even just to talk.
