When the party's over. . .

Dear younger self

Soon you’ll leave home; you’ll abandon the food, places and people you love to be tossed into a constellation of books, booze, boys and bumpy relationships. I understand that you are elated by this prospect and I admire the passion you embrace this new experience with. I hope that my letter does not tarnish your excitement but encourages it instead.

You’re at a merry party; you hate this merry party. He’s there. You find his presence most unnerving so you veil your anxiety with alcohol. Your friends distract you as good friends should and you dance and chat like nothing is wrong. Eventually you start enjoying yourself. Everything is buzzing; the atmosphere is light and liberating. The bubbles in your glass keep this sensation alive. The DJ’s playing your song and you’re feeling good. You leave for some fresh air and you’re greeted by the smell of fried food. You cannot resist. You order and wait. As you’re munching on your chicken burger you decide that you’re ‘over it’ and make your way to the Rhodetrip bus. Suddenly you’re in your room and solitude creeps through you. The party’s over.

I have just described the ‘night out’ you are likely to experience during your first year because this haze of social delight is very telling of your encounters at Rhodes. You will experiment with alcohol and crave acceptance. You will also make mistakes and regret them the next morning for example, wearing heels out. You will explore, fall in love and form wonderful friendships. You also will be bombarded by information on surviving your first year so I’ll try to keep it simple.

Socrates says it best, “I know nothing except the fact of my own ignorance.” Accept that you don’t know everything and it is impossible to be completely prepared for your first year. Keep an open mind and zeal for exploration and learning. Participate in things you enjoy. Be kind to others. Accept that not everything is for you. Value yourself and make decisions that please you because when the party’s over you’re all you’ll have left.

Much love, peace and respect

Roxanne