Part I: Stony Brook
In the summer of '13 I cut off all my hair. I entered Stony with a pixie cut and reservations of having chosen a safety over my dream school for the price tag. I moved into a dorm, a suite of 6 girls, for which I still have intense nostalgia. We decorated our walls in corny quotes and washi tape, got each other hyped to sit in a stranger's car for our first ever frat party, watched the series finale of How I Met Your Mother. We did all the things you and your freshmen roommates are supposed to do. At our first Homecoming game, someone laughed when I cheered alongside the crowd. I asked them why and they told me it was funny to see the quiet girl make a sound. My heart sank to my stomach when I heard those words. Here I was, in a new place trying to be a new person, and I was still somehow the quiet girl. They say that college is where you find yourself, but I thought I already knew who I was. I was so certain that I had become the person I promised my high school self I ...