This is an ode to all the students who need a reminder that failing or withdrawing from one class is not going to ruin your life.
I came to college from an extremely rigorous girls high school, ranked nationally for its academic excellence, theater and arts, and championship-winning athletics. Although senior year was my vision of Dante's seventh ring of hell (with AP classes and college apps, too!), second semester rolled around, I was accepted into colleges and I could finally say my high school work ethic and motivation paid off
I came to college considering myself a fairly good student -- I was well rounded with high-level courses and a plethora of extracurriculars. Then I physically set foot on campus at one of the top universities in the nation and expected it to be the same as high school.
I thought I could cruise on by doing barely any work, procrastinate as I pleased, and join any and all of the extracurriculars I was interested in. Well let me tell you, I was really fucking wrong.
There are some people that can do it all, but as I've learned, I'm not one of those people. I require at least 6.5 hours of sleep per night, I need breaks for mental rest and I need to do somewhat well in my classes so I don't freak out. However, as a first semester freshman, I didn't have this all figured out and I took the L for it.
Hard work equals time, and that time was spread thin amongst my commitments. One class in particular took an especially hard hit. It required much more work than I was used to putting into a singular class, and it was also just so damn hard.
I didn't have the same individualized support from teachers in college as I did in my tiny high school. I was left in the dust feeling anxious, depressed and failing.
I spent countless nights trying desperately to finish the work on time and understand the material, but nothing I did worked. I was near failing the class and had to subsequently make the decision to withdraw.
One of the biggest fears I've maintained my whole life is a fear of failure, so this was a particularly hard hit to cope with. However, the world did not end. I realized that not doing well in one thing is shockingly OK.
I decided that I would pick myself up and not let this be the end of me. Once I talked to my academic dean and withdrew from the class, I moved the fuck on. I am now living my life as a happy human being.
One college class is no longer taking a toll on my mental health, and I can focus my time on things I am actually interested in pursuing with my other academic courses and extracurriculars. I have time to reflect and think about what I want in my future.
Bottom line, sometimes you put up a fight but you end up taking an L. What's important is that you take something away from your failure and learn from it, then pick yourself up and move on. If I lived after facing my biggest fear, so will you.