Kaylee Madson
Editor’s Note: All opinion section content reflects the views of the individual author only and does not represent a stance taken by The Collegian or its editorial board.
Throughout college, many students battle the same war: balancing college life with home life. Before coming to college, your home, your family and your pets are likely all you’ve ever known. Then, suddenly, you shove your whole life in a car, drive however long and end up at college.
Of course, you’ll probably get homesick once you get there. Even if it’s just missing your favorite bagel shop from your hometown — there will be something. That’s normal, and honestly, I hope you do get a little homesick — it means you came from a place filled with love.
But here’s the problem: College is about building a new life. That means learning to live without your parents, finding your way in a new town and figuring out who you are outside the walls of your childhood bedroom.
But none of that happens if you keep running home every chance you get.
Going home, while healing, slows down the transition period. You want the comfort of home because college feels strange, and the first few months of school are the hardest. But if you keep one foot in high school and the other in college, you’ll just end up stuck in-between.
And then summer comes. Sure — going home feels like the obvious choice: It is cheap, comfortable and stress free. Going home for the summer after your first year is understandable, but honestly, going home any year after that is a step backward.
You move back into your childhood bedroom, and suddenly, you’re 16 again. Your parents’ rules creep back in. You’re a guest in your own home. It’s jarring — you’re returning to a place that used to be your entire world, only to realize it’s not really yours anymore. That strangeness isn’t just uncomfortable; it makes you question who you are and where you belong.
You may not want to admit it, but going home for summer doesn’t just pause your college experience; it disrupts it.
And the longer you stay, the worse it gets. You pick up shifts at your old high school job and you hang out with the same friends, only to realize everyone has moved on. People are invested in their new college lives, and suddenly, the hometown bubble feels suffocating.
Meanwhile, while you’re stuck reliving high school summers, your college friends are moving forward. They’re working internships in their new towns and actually growing into the independent version of themselves that college promised.
Staying home might be comforting, but comfort doesn’t equal growth. Home will always be home, but living there will never be the same as it used to be. It is hard, but it’s not like you will never go home again. At some point you have to ask: When are you going to move on?
Obviously, everyone has a different experience going home for summer. For me, I felt like a tourist in my own town. My high school was filled with students I didn’t know, there was a new building on every street and I no longer knew all the gas station employees’ names. I didn’t feel like I owned the place anymore.
Once I got back to college, I realized that nothing will ever replace my hometown; however, it was time to view Fort Collins as more than just my college town.
As you start spending more time here, you will embrace the area for what it is. You can get a job that defines this part of your life. You can enjoy the scenery around you and understand how lucky you are to live here. You get to choose how you feel about the place you live and create the haven you deserve.
You may not want to admit it, but going home for summer doesn’t just pause your college experience; it disrupts it. It pulls you back into an old identity just when you’re supposed to be building a new one. You need to figure out who you are here.
Reach Charlotte Seymour at letters@collegian.com or on social media @RMCollegian.