This is what I call "packing"

Contrary to the person most of my college friends know me as, my life wasn't always so put together. I remember running away from home in high school... traveling to Mo. State and Mizzou to visit my best friends. I absolutely pined for the life they had. Freedom. No parents, no worries, no drama ... or so it seemed at the ripened age of 18. College life seemed absolutely perfect.

Working 40 hours a week and driving the good old 1 hour drive out to Troy, Mo (my ingenious runaway location), I yearned to live on my own. To be strong and independent. And then.. it happened. The day I first moved to college.

As I loaded my freshly bought bed spread and mac book into the car I felt that first surge hit. What the hell was that, I thought. It was just like BOOM. Freak out. But I brushed it aside, kissed my dad and hopped in my car to follow. Undoubtedly blasting my fav Hollister Co. jams in Blueberry, the first few miles weren't too bad. A couple sideroads. Some backroads. A cigarette or two.

The highway... well thats a different story. My heart started racing. "Oh. My. God." POUNDING. "Lighter, lighter... where's my lighter?" "Turn the music up.. oh eff its all the way up." Thump, thump. "Holy hell I'm on my way to college."

For a girl who's always tried to be so tough... I couldn't understand it. There, in all that is glory of the open road on Highway 70... I was panicking. And panicking bad. I think I debated calling my dad and telling him to pull over about a GAJILLION times. I'll just tell him to pull over and turn around, that's what I thought. Lindenwood isn't so bad. "There's journalism there right? Maybe?"

But when I pulled up to the janky building of Jones Hall, the pounding stopped. Well, not all together obvi... but it didn't feel so bad. Before I knew it, I was finished unloading my new home and shoving my dad out the door. "Dad. Oh my god... nobody else's parents are still here. NO you do NOT need to engrave my name on my refrigerator.. for god's sake, nobody is going to steal it."

I made it. Finally, a big kid on my own. What I was so eager to have for so many years. And though terrified as I was, I made it.

And now here I am. Sitting on the floor in my room at my mom's house, next to that refrigerator (no name inscribed), surrounded by piles of business casual clothes and empty suitcases. Also joining us ... oh just that racing heart again. No big. Oh yeah... and tears. I forgot to mention there were quite a few of those on Highway 70, too.

And as I sit here wishing I could Wingarium Leviosa every article of clothing into my bag, I can't help but also laugh at that silly girl 3 years ago. And at that same girl now... seriously, if you saw this mascara river line down my face right now, you would too.

At least though, this is a good freakout. It's a realization that I've come a long way from that 18 year-old trying to find her place in life. Worrying about fitting in and making impressions... I've done it all. And it was more than I could have ever dreamed for. And now, here it is. The final moment where it's seriously hitting me ... New York City, magazine empire, here I come.

Replace the open road with endless skies. Blueberry's car stereo with an iPod, and this song on repeat:

I Made It - Kevin Rudolf.

I look up to the sky
And now the World is mine
Ive known it all my life
I made it, I made it!
I used to dream about, the life I'm living now
I know that theres no doubt.
I made it, I made it