The collegiate experience is often a period of excitement and apprehension – for both students and parents. In our Family Blog Series, we’ll hear about this life-changing journey from current Blue Jays, as well as impart guidance on the process from our supportive Elizabethtown College employees.

I was terrified of change. I always have been. Especially when it involved leaving my family, my home. At the end of 2020, after what the world thought was enough change, too much change, I was on my way to one of the biggest changes of my life. I was going to be moving to a new place, meeting new people, and studying new topics. I was on my way to Etown.

Moving in was difficult, to say the least. As I hugged my parents goodbye, I felt such a strong sense of sadness, a direct contrast to the smiling photograph my mom made me take for her Facebook. I just remember thinking: How will I get through this? How can I go without hearing daily words of wisdom from my mom? How can I go without joking around with my dad? How can I go without hilariously snarky comments from my sister? I wasn’t adjusting well, and frankly, I didn’t want to. Those I cared about most seemed lightyears away.

Spoiler alert: Things got better as I got into the swing of being a college student. I fell in love with my coursework, met my forever friends, and got involved in clubs that I am passionate about. I still missed my family immensely, but that feeling was more manageable. While I was on the up-and-up, there were still those moments when I found myself in a valley of sadness, wanting nothing more than to crawl into my bed at home.

I remember sitting on the floor of my friend’s dorm room during my first semester, us laughing as we always did. I remember the three of them saying I was a good storyteller, and that my comedic delivery was the key to our eruptions of laughter. As I thanked them for the compliment, I realized something: I have my dad’s sense of humor. The way I told a story was just as he would when my family and I would sit at the dinner table.

I remember my roommate getting ready for a performance, pinched for time as she swiped on eye shadow. I remember offering to help her straighten her hair. I told her about how my mom would always straighten my hair for me at home, both because she wanted to and because my hair was too wild for me to tame on my own. My roommate was surprised to hear that something as mundane as straightening hair was an activity my mom and I did together. As I ran the straightener through her hair, I realized something: I have my mom’s kindness.

For so many weeks I felt so distant from those I had known my whole life, when in reality, the parts of them that I love the most were a part of who I was and who I still am. They may have been farther away than before, but my mom was right beside me when I offered to help my roommate, and my dad was there too when I made my friends laugh. Now, I am my mom anytime a friend asks for advice. I am my dad when I speak publicly. I am my sister as I work and empathize with middle grades students. Once I saw myself as a collection of all my favorite people and stories, they didn’t seem so far away anymore.

I can now tolerate change. I always will. Sometimes, I even welcome it. Especially because I know I will forever have those I love within me. 

About Madison Fischer

Madison Fischer is a Middle-Level Education major (mathematics concentration) who is in her junior year at Elizabethtown College. She is a Lead Peer Mentor, Emotion choreographer, and member of Lighthouse’s leadership team.