In just four short days I will be leaving behind my Texas home and going to New York City. I make that sound a lot more dramatic than it is, I’m actually just going up for college visits. Point is, I’m way overexcited to go. Like, way more excited about visiting colleges than any normal teenager should be. Because for me, this trip is more about the city than the college itself. Of course Pratt is my dream school, but there’s simply no way I could decide if I want to move up there without having visited first. Hence, the college visit this weekend.
New York holds so much more for me than colleges though. As long as I can remember, visiting this city has been a dream. So much so that it’s actually on my bucket list. The thought is that there’s simply so much to be found there. So many people, so many things to do, to see, to experience. So much oppourtunity that simply can’t be found anywhere else. There is, of course, the glamour factor. Because, let’s be honest, how cool is it when a girl comes home to Texas and can say “Oh yeah, I know the best ____ place in the fashion district/soho/anywhere-else-in-New-York-sounds-impressive.” True story.
In this same way, I’m so scared. Not scared of the city itself, but of what I think of it. I’m scared it won’t live up to everything I’ve been dreaming all these years. Or that it simply won’t be what I expect and come off as a disappointment. Or that I’ll realize I could never get used to the hustle and bustle of things. I’m scared I will come to find out that this city isn’t for me. Scared to see that a 4’11” Texas girl from a little suburb could never make it in the big city. That’s what scares me.
In four days, I face my fears.