Imagine this: you’ve gotten into one of your top schools, and now you’re ready to begin a new adventure, blazing your own path towards success. The excitement builds to finally leave home and begin the start of a brand-new future.

You know the journey will be rough. The undergraduate experience is a rigorous one, entailing some of the most difficult courses the University has to offer. But you’re ready to face it, because you know you have your friends and hobbies to keep you afloat- and if you’re going in alone, you have the promise to make new friends.

This was me in my freshman year, a pre-veterinary student ready to begin her journey towards becoming a veterinarian. I knew that I had courses such as General Chemistry, Organic Chemistry, and Physics ahead of me, but I also had art, music, and writing to keep me grounded, even if I hadn’t yet made any friends. I was optimistic for the future, ready for an adventure. I was ready for a challenge.

But, with each day, things got harder. My first experience on campus was terrible. Just before my college orientation, I was rejected from the School of Music, which I wanted to pursue a minor in. Instead of rallying with my fellow students of the Class of 2020, I spent the entire time crying in the eerily empty lobby of Jennings Hall, because I had been locked out of my dorm room. (My mother and sister had left me to go to the orientation).

This was only the beginning of me feeling excluded from the “Gator Nation.” I was rejected from the School of Music again in the spring, which led me to give up music for an entire semester. I felt numb, desolate. I continued through the year without making any of the connections which I desperately sought. On top of this, there was a crisis within my family, that had almost left me broken. Even getting into the School of Music in the fall of my sophomore year couldn’t do anything to mitigate my hopelessness.

As my classes became more demanding, I began to lose time— the time to write, and the time to draw. Soon, my motivation and creativity, too, had been tapped out. I gradually lost what made me “me.” No matter how much I excelled in my classes, I only saw myself as a single, inconsequential speck drifting through campus every day. College was supposed to be the best four years of your life, right? I saw so many other people “doing it right,” so what was I doing wrong?

I felt like I didn’t belong. I wanted to give up, to go home. But, then, one day, when I couldn’t take it anymore, I looked around and saw where I really was. That’s when I saw that I wasn’t actually on campus, experiencing college with everybody else; I had, in reality, dug myself in a hollow where it was hard to see the light. I looked beside me: dark, looming walls seemingly stretched towards infinity. I looked up: there was an exit, but it was a long way to the surface, to the light. However, I gradually began to realize that there was, in fact, a way out; all I had to do was call out for help, and someone would lend a hand and hoist me up into the light. But I knew it would be a long process.

I began by reaching out to U Matter, We Care, and at the same time began mild therapy. Through this program, I realized that attending UF was not the hopeless, devaluing experience I had been led to believe was destined for me. The competition is high, yes, but of what significance is competition if everybody is unique and different? My mentor, who was also pre-vet, encouraged me with every small step I took towards the surface. I was encouraged to make connections and to join more non-academic clubs. So, in my junior year, I joined an Honors Fraternity which exposed me to all kinds of different, beautiful people. I began to heal. Little by little, my motivation and creativity began to funnel back into the space I had filled with void. Maybe it is not what it once was, but it comforts me to know: I am free.

So if you feel the same way I did, don’t lose hope. You will find a place. You will learn to love yourself because you are worthy of love and so much more. You are beautiful, talented, and so much more than how you see yourself next to others. If you find yourself in a rut, and out of motivation, you will find it again, even if it may take a while. But don’t give up hope. Reach out. I did, and it was the best choice I made. These are my promises to you.

And don’t forget to look up.

Love, Sara, a UF Student.

P.S: This is a doodle I made in the midst of one of my darkest times. I hope it can speak to you. (Yes, those are Chemistry notes).