Growing up, college was a promise that I looked to and longed for. Something talked about glowingly, depicted beautifully and remembered fondly. “The time of your life”: a phrase thrown around so often when describing college it became a cliché. A phrase that also brought pressure. Pressure to be happy. Pressure to enjoy every moment. Pressure to live up to that cliché.

But, college was not always the time of my life. At times, it was hard. It was lonely and overwhelming. Being away from home, away from family, away from friends, away from the known comfort. 

Hours spent in my dorm room listening to voices of loved ones who were hundreds of miles away reiterating that it would get better. Nights spent in with fictional television friends because I had no real ones to go out with. Signing up for Tinder, not getting a single match and blaming the stupid app and its algorithm for preventing you from finding love; but also wondering if you are worthy of it. Meals ate alone with headphones on, dreading the possibility of someone joining you and dodging the eye contact of people you somewhat know. Pretending that they don’t remember you or they don’t want to talk to you right now. Days and nights spent stressing about this upcoming test, this class, this year, if this is the right major for you and even if this is the right school for you. 

But with the bad, comes the good. A chance meeting during Welcome Week with a stranger who becomes a friend for life when you stare each other down across a game of cornhole on the field outside of Sewall. Meeting the person who would become your roommate for the next three years when you get invited to a Hippie Sabotage concert because someone else couldn’t go. Throwing the baseball around on Farrand and your friend, seeing the girl you like, throws the ball directly at her so you have to awkwardly save the day, and then when that doesn’t work, having a laugh about it later. 

Caring about an issue so passionately that you decide to skip class because why learn about history when you have the chance to be part of it? A brief moment of eye contact across a party that sends you spiraling into a romantic swoon. Attending a class that starts a fire in you that you didn’t know existed. Storming the field after a comeback win against Nebraska (or in my case, watching your friends storm the field because you decided to leave at halftime when your team was losing—don’t worry, I still regret it). 

Time wasted doing stupid things that can only be done here. Freedom spent just like a credit card; the bill ever rising. Memories and stories that won’t be forgotten. Memories and stories that have already been forgotten. Memories and stories that are better off forgotten. 

While college was always in the plan for me, I learned that is not the case for everyone. Attending college is a privilege. One I am grateful to have experienced and one that I have enjoyed. But also one that is difficult. I have more to think about, more to explore and more to question about myself. 

I leave college both more and less sure of who I am. Paradoxical yes, but also true. The skills I have learned here, in and out of the classroom, will be invaluable for the world ahead. Because of them, the obstacles I will face no longer seem so scary. However, I have also been exposed to more ways of living and more ways of thinking than ever before. I was once sure of what I wanted to do when I left—the career I wanted to have. Now, I am unsure of what my career path will be but more certain of the person I aim to become. 

I arrived at this university with you, my fellow seniors, under the title of “Class of 2021.” A collection of individuals with experiences and backgrounds as plentiful as they are different. Over the past four years, in my case, we have grown to become a collective. These experiences, once so different, became more familiar and, eventually, became shared. These individuals, once strangers, are now friends. 

As we graduate under that enigmatic title of “Class of 2021,” we have come to embody what it means to be students at the University of Colorado Boulder. Our experience is both shared and unique to the students before and after us. College introduced us to the life and future we aim for—a microcosm of the life we will soon enjoy. One with high highs and low lows. Ecstasy and despair. But, also, an experience filled with people who are forever tied to us. Those who can claim to be Forever Buffs. People we have come to know and people who have made this experience. Some responsible for the high highs and, unfortunately, others responsible for those low lows. 

We once again leave a place of comfort—our home for the past few years. We will be challenged as we were here, but perhaps even more so. That is OK, however, because we are stronger. We’ll remember making it through those tough times and the great times that followed. We’ll remember the friends we made along the way; they are those who will now support us in our challenges ahead. We’ll remember that we must continue to grow in order to make an impact on this world, as we have been taught to do from our time here. 

We graduate together ready for our future, prepared by these experiences and buoyed by those who graduate with us. Our future is in our control. So, as our experiences once again become as plentiful as they are different, remember the title that we share. The title we earned from our time here. A title I am forever grateful to have associated with my name, my story.