It took me five days at Lawrenceville to realize it was the worst decision I had made in my whole life. Going to Lawrenceville was a choice that came more out of necessity than desire. My old school, West Windsor, canceled their football team, and if I wanted to continue pursuing sports, I had to transfer schools. The football coach at Lawrenceville promised me I would love it and that he would be there to help me if I didn't. Despite his promises, he left the school the day I decided to go to Lawrenceville, leaving me high and dry. 

After the fifth day of school, I calmly walked into my house, went straight to my bedroom, and put myself in the fetal position.  I let the tears that began to build after first period escape my eyes. Over the previous four days, I learned an essential strategy for crying without letting anyone hear.  I screamed and cried into my pillow, angry at God for not giving me a sign that Lawrenceville would be a mistake.  My Mom ran into my room like a firefighter going to save someone, after hearing my muffled sobs. She put both hands on my shoulders and let me cry into her pink t-shirt. After expelling all the water I had in my body, I laid back on my bed, exhausted from the excessive amount of time I had cried over the past week. My Mom understood why I didn't like Lawrenceville; it was foreign to me. While all of the kids spent their summers going on fancy vacations, I spent mine fishing in my backyard. While the other kids wore a new outfit each day, I rotated through five collared shirts I found in the clearance section. At my old school, 30 students sat in rows facing the instructor;  we didn’t chat around a table. I fit in about as well as an Alien; I couldn't say I fit in as well as someone from another country because even the kids from China seemed to be having a better time than me. 

Though my friends told me to give it time, the reason why the fifth day of school was the day I realized Lawrenceville was a mistake, was because of a simple comment made by a girl sitting next to me in class. She looked up at me while in history class, her eyes meeting mine, and made a simple observation: "you are shy." Shy was never an adjective people used to describe me at my old school. I was the kid that sat in the front row of every class, made friends with everyone, and everyone generally liked me in school. People’s perception of me at Lawrenceville was different; people now knew me as the shy kid. Lawrenceville changed who I was, something I didn't think anyone could do. If I had a time machine, I would go back, like in the scene in Interstellar, and desperately try to tell myself not to go, stay where you are happy, and don't listen to the coach. 

I didn’t have a time machine.  Instead of traveling to the past, I pushed on for two years.  I made some friends, earned a spot on the lacrosse team, won a speech competition, and learned how to write excessively long essays.  I did revisit the recruitment phone call, though, this time with a coach from Williams College.  I hung up the phone with the recruiter after spending the better part of an hour hearing about the facilities, the dorms, the prestige, and how much he loved me and would look out for me if I went to his school. Similar to most recruiting calls, he only gave the highlights of Williams. Luckily I did my own research on the school, I didn't just listen to what the coach had to say. I walked out of my room and went to talk to my Mom about how the call went. "What do you think, honey?" I smiled. Responding to my Mom, I said, "the school seems nice, but I think the coach is full of sh*t." A wide grin spread across her face. 

 Thinking back, after the Lawrenceville coach’s call, I told my Mom I needed to go to Lawrenceville, and I would love it; of course, those feelings were all based on what the coach told me. I didn't love it; I knew that since the fifth day, but maybe the hope that it might just get a little bit better on the 6th day or the 7th made me keep getting up in the morning to face the foreign school. Lawrenceville had changed who I was, but I am stronger for it.