I read once that we, like potted plants,need to be uprooted, stripped of the comfortable storecontainer we call home. We need to be gently–sometimes painfully–broken upour roots loosened and separatedand placed in a much larger pot with fresh soilto really grow–we need to be watered, fed,nourished, yes, but the repotting is what allows us to flourishbeyond our tiny containerThese words resonated with me when I was repotted at SLUI felt ripped from my home, my mother, my townthat was mapped onto my heart I reminded myself thatto grow– flourish– I needed to find roots on this campus.It took me two years to realize that those tears were wateringmy soul, allowing me to grow into this person, this body,this city that I can call home (now).As I approach the end of my days as an undergraduate,with my heels pressing the brakes andmy mind swatting at timelinesthese words resonate again.Transitions are hard and college is especially hardbecause the expectation is to be uprootedI’m scared because I was able to finallyfeel a sense of belonging with friends who nourishmy laughter and hold the weight of my pain with me.It still amazes me how everything I do feels like the hardest thingI will ever do.But I look back on these times of transition and know thatthe next step is upward.I am ready to grow–to take on that big girl job,that graduate school, that renter’s insurance.It is painful and exciting and anxiety-inducing and nostalgicall wrapped up in a little package that will meet me at the nextspot I land.
