After three years out of school, living in the "real world", coming back to further my education was a momentous decision. Having the social and economic freedoms associated with living on my own was something that I was not lightly willing to give up. I was developing a sense of person; a sense of being- of purpose. I did not know if I could adapt to the change that going to college would bring to my fragile, yet stable, life. Before seeing if I could make it, I had a vast hurdle to jump: I had to get there first.
After deciding which schools I wanted to attend (and the schools that would take me), I had to start the application process. I was afraid that, being 21 and on my own for 4 years, most schools would be reluctant in accepting me as a freshman. The knowledge that I did not have the best grades in high school also weighed heavily in the back of my mind. Immediately following applying to schools, even before knowing the result of my submissions, I had to fill out the FAFSA forms. "Great," I thought, "just what I need: more federal government forms in my life." Next came the dreaded campus visit and meeting with an admissions counselor. I knew that, inevitably, the question, "Why do you want to come to school?" and "Why did you choose this school?" had to be asked. I did not have an answer; I still don't. Finally the envelope from ETSU arrived in the post. I did not want to open it. If it was a rejection, I would be devastated. If the letter was that of accepting me to the University, my life was in for some big changes. That frightened me quite a bit: So much had to be done in preparation for the start of classes, I thought that I might get lost forever. Finally, I opened it: I was accepted! YES! Oh, God-No! I had made a promise to myself: if I made it into a school, I would go. No backing out allowed. Now the fun began: I had to tell my parents that I had applied to a university, been accepted, and had the resources to pay for my education (with a bit of help from First National bank of Mom and Dad).
