At 18 years old, during my first week at UCA, I remember being too scared to walk into the cafeteria to eat by myself. 

I’m now a 21-year-old, just days away from walking the graduation stage, and I would do anything to go back and tell that anxious 18-year-old version of myself how incredible her next few years would be.

I used to hate when people told me, “College years are the best years of your life,” and I would “miss this place” when I was gone. 

While I still don’t fully believe either of those statements, I can wholeheartedly say that I’ve made some wonderful memories, and I will miss certain aspects of being a college student. 

I will look back fondly on my time at UCA, but I will be happy to be done with the hours of schoolwork it took to get me here.

I know I’ll never miss the late nights or early mornings finishing papers and projects and cramming for exams. 

I will be perfectly fine without the stress, tears and the need for academic validation. 

Not having to sit through 8 a.m. classes or the seemingly eternal hour-and-15-minute lectures will be wonderful. 

But I will miss the friends I’ve made and our shared memories.

I will always cherish the silly between-class conversations, lunch dates and late nights in the library doing anything but studying. I will miss never being this young again and living so close to all my best friends.

I would love to go back and tell my 18-year-old self that if she only knew the love, support and friendships she would find in the coming years, she would be OK. 

During my freshman year, I had no idea that the job I had just started at the new drive-through coffee shop would become my second home and give me some of my greatest memories and friends.

When I anxiously walked into my Advanced Public Speaking class during the spring semester of my second year at UCA, I didn’t know I was choosing a seat amongst some of my future best friends and my favorite professor. 

If I could only tell my freshman-year self that her mom was always a phone call away, and her husband would stay up as long as she needed to finish a paper or help her study flashcards for that stupid biology class that she’d never need to know anything from.

I’m so thankful for the people who love me and have supported me throughout the past three years. 

My co-workers turned into my companions. My “Girl’s Life” girls. My sweet and silly comm friends. 

All of the professors who helped and mentored me. My parents, who always answered when I called and listened when I cried — which was a lot.

And, of course, my husband, who always told me I would be OK and that I would graduate regardless of the grade I got on my tests. Thank you, and I love you.

Without you, I wouldn’t be able to walk across the stage with a college degree next week.

My 18-year-old self will never know the beautiful memories I’ve created, the lifelong friendships I’ve made or any of my accomplishments while at UCA.

But my 21-year-old self knows how much it took for that anxious freshman girl to walk into the cafeteria and how proud she would be of herself to see how far she’s come — to know that she did make friends. 

She did have fun. And that she made it to graduation with high honors.