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The opinions expressed in this article are the writer’s own and do not reflect the views of Her Campus.
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at CU Boulder chapter.

Highschool, as depicted in the movies, are some people’s glory days. For some, it’s nothing but a nightmare. For me, I’d say I got a little bit of both. While the highs were high, the lows were pretty low. I had no idea what was in store for me after I flung that graduation cap off my head. 

I was one of those people that was ecstatic to come to college. I was a little nervous, sure, but I knew there was so much more of the world I was meant to see. I came from a large high school, around 2,000 kids in total, but it still felt so small. 

I stuck to the same friend group pretty much all throughout high school, which was fun in the moment, as my post-COVID senior year holds some of my favorite memories. However, at the end of that year, my friendships seemed to take a turn for the worse. I did something very embarrassing, and it seemed to make its way through my entire school. I was already sad, shameful, and utterly mortified by what happened, and it eventually became a big rumor, blown up before my eyes, spread by the people closest to me at the time. And as I walked the halls of my high school, people I knew very well wouldn’t even make eye contact with me, as if they were ashamed to be associated with me.

It was a dark period of my life. It was hard for me to even show up to school at times, afraid of what people were going to say (or yet, what they wouldn’t say). Most of the time, I felt like a ghost, like people didn’t want to acknowledge my presence.

One of my best friends and I used to park next to each other in the school parking lot almost every day, usually getting there early to get a good spot. It always brightened my morning, climbing into the passenger seat of her car and catching up until school started, usually making random jokes we’d made a hundred times before. My heart sank into my chest day after day as I looked at the parking spot next to me, remaining empty. 

Through my car window, I watched the girls who I had grown so close to seem so unbothered by my lack of presence as they walked into school together. I grew very lonely as the invitations to gatherings suddenly ceased, not even getting an invite to some of their graduation parties. I wondered how over one instance, friendships that I thought ran deep could break so easily. I wondered if they missed me. 

I spent a large part of that summer alone, learning how to cultivate and preserve my self-worth no matter what other people thought of me. I knew myself, and that’s all that mattered. I worked a lot, I went to the gym, and I spent a good portion of my days on Pinterest or day-dreaming about what my life would soon become in August as I headed off to my dream school. And what was once sadness about losing close friendships slowly became anger that hardened my heart. How could they cut me off so easily? I often wondered. Did I really mean that little to them? Was their pride and reputation in school more important than their loyalty to me? These questions floated through my mind daily, and I pondered what I would say to them if I ever got the chance, if I ever ran into them again. Maybe I’d give them an evil stare or I’d make a perfectly-curated snarky comment to hit them right where it hurts. Because I was hurt. 

I slowly healed, and let my heart forgive those who never apologized to me for the way I was treated. But I was left with an extremely bad impression regarding female friendships. I thought they were toxic, unloyal, dramatic and judgemental. I grew up around a lot of boys and had a lot of close guy friends in high school who remain some of my closest friends to this day. I just assumed being friends with guys was “easier” and “less drama.” 

What I didn’t realize at the time is that the experience from high school that once scorned me, allowed me to reemerge a blank slate. I was no longer tied to my life at home. I could enter my new life at college with open arms and an open heart. I knew the quality of friendships that I was looking for, and I deserved to be picky about who I let close to me. 

Waving goodbye to my parents as they drove away from Sewall Hall, I was left to finally explore this new world I had been waiting so long for. Luckily enough, my first friend lived a foot away from me, and she would soon become one of my best friends. 

Freshman year went by in a blur; a blur of a million new faces and new people. I found myself spending a majority of my days with the same three faces. It was me, my roommate, and two other girls who were also roommates. We lived a floor apart in Sewall, and we all met during the first week of move-in. Although it took a couple months, we began to realize that the four of us were attached at the hip. 

The girl who once did everything alone and simply enjoyed her own presence found herself wanting to spend everyday with these three girls. Whether that was sitting in the dining hall for hours on end giggling about nothing or laying next to each other in silence scrolling on TikTok, I felt like the best version of myself. My heart felt at peace, I felt like I could say anything around these girls and my thoughts would be heard and understood. I had never felt like this before, where I wanted to share every aspect of my life and all of my free time with them. They were my anchors that brought me back down to earth when I got swept into the crazy ups and downs of my first year living on my own. 

They showed me how deeply enriching and important female friendships are. I felt myself grow and become more in touch with my softer, more feminine side. These three girls became the forefront of my priorities and still are to this day. 

We now live in a four bedroom apartment together. Even on my most stressful days, I know I can come home to them. They are my safe space: the people who feel more like home than my actual home ever did. It’s in those little moments, when we’re on the couch watching a movie, or eating dinner together, or getting dressed up and taking photos, I picture my past self, looking at me now and smiling. Because this is what she always wanted. 

So not only is this an ode to my amazing college roommates who have done more for me than they even know, but this is also an ode to myself. For not shutting down when the world hardened, and for not giving up on the love I knew was out there. If you’re going through a hard time, and feel like the world has taken something away from you or beaten you down, this is a reminder that the universe is making space for something new, and it’s probably even better than you can imagine. 

Hailey Kessler

CU Boulder '26

I am a psychology major at the University of Colorado Boulder who has a passion for writing!