By Janay Boyd | Reporter
The end of the semester always brings a strange mix of emotions — especially when you’re a senior. There’s still so much left to do: projects, exams, papers, catching up with old friends and even meeting new ones. But it all feels different now, knowing that once this semester wraps up, there’s no coming back. This chapter really is closing.
I still remember moving into my freshman dorm — a single in Kokernot — and eating noodles on the floor because I was overwhelmed and alone. Now, every time I see that specific brand of noodles, I’m transported back to that moment. Safe to say, they’re no longer a pantry staple.
Lately, I’ve found myself in emotional limbo and I know I’m not the only one. Whether you’re a freshman wrapping up your first year or a senior finishing your last, it feels like something is ending. Friends are moving away. Some are transferring. One of my closest friends is moving to Scotland for grad school. We’re all heading in different directions, and none of them look the same.
That thought is sad, sweet and also heavy. But instead of brushing those feelings aside, I think it’s important to sit with them and let it sink in. Because yes, something is ending, but something new is beginning, too.
There’s pressure right now. Maybe you’re trying to hit a specific GPA, land a job or just survive your finals. And for seniors, the looming unknown of what comes next can feel overwhelming. It’s OK not to have it all mapped out.
A blog post from The Odyssey Online compared graduating to losing the instructions to a piece of Ikea furniture and trying to put it together anyway — and honestly, that feels about right.
But alongside the uncertainty, there’s also relief and pride. The late nights, the hard conversations, the laughter, the setbacks, the growth — they all brought us here, and that means something.
We tend to treat endings like losses, like the last page of a favorite book or the final scene of a show. And sure, graduation feels like a big, dramatic final scene. But instead of mourning what’s over, maybe we should celebrate the little things that made it all so special: the professor who believed in you when you didn’t believe in yourself, the stranger you ran through the rain with and the late-night food runs with someone you barely knew a semester ago.
These are the moments that made college more than just classes and deadlines. These are the stories worth holding onto — not with sadness, but with gratitude. It’s like a memory that makes you smile on a hard day.
Of course, the end of the semester also comes with regrets — wishing you had joined more clubs or pushed yourself out of your comfort zone. I know I do. But it’s too late to change the past. All we can do is sit with those feelings, learn from them and try to do better in the future.
It’s OK to grieve the everyday moments that quietly become unforgettable. But it’s also OK to be excited and hopeful. Because no matter how uncertain the future feels, we’re stepping into it with more strength, more heart and more stories than we had when we started.
