225 miles is the distance from Athens to my hometown. 225 miles away from my brother, sister, mom, dad, dog and cat. 225 miles from the town I call home. There was no going home on weekends or hometown friends at school with me. It was just me and the 225 miles from everyone I knew.
The distance from home didn’t feel big at first. I was always a pretty independent child, and I always knew I wanted to go out of state for college. It wasn’t till I fell a singular step in Schoonover Center room 145, that I felt that distance.
My ankle swelled, and it was definitely sprained. I didn’t go to O’Bleness Hospital for it, although I probably should’ve. After my roommate left my room, I lay in my bed and cried, wanting my mom and dad. The next morning, I hopped my way to CVS on Court Street and bought a wrap to wrap my ankle myself. My lesson to you: don’t do the same as me.
It was the little things that made me doubt if Athens was it for me. When the Steelers game wasn’t the local game, I had to go to Buffalo Wild Wings to watch it. It was when I was sick for three weeks straight, and Hudson Health Center told me I had allergies. I had never had allergies all my life till I moved to Athens. When everyone went home for the weekend to visit family, I was left here.
But little by little, those doubts got chipped away, and the distance was gone. I started building a life for myself and becoming my own person. It started with the Voigt Hall council, my freshman year, or as we called ourselves, “The Lobby Ladies,” the girls who would make me laugh and would suffer through my rants about football. They helped make Voigt Hall a home for a girl far from home.
Then, working at Bobcat Student Orientation, I saw the beauty of Athens in the summer. It was meeting two of my probably lifelong friends in my junior year, Abby and Sofia. Skipping class with them to sunbathe at Strouds Run or meeting at Abby's house to have a “family dinner.” Even now, the staff at BV4 has made my senior year filled with laughter and excitement.
What started as unfamiliar and scary became home. The newsroom became my study spot, even if some days I would get nothing done there. Thank you to the amazing Multimedia staff and everyone in the past four years who fulfilled the unproductive days in the office.
I was the girl who cried at her BSO because she was lost, and can now walk around campus confident of where she is going. Campus was no longer “out-of-state” and was another version of home. That's what makes leaving so complicated.
Graduation isn’t just moving forward; it is leaving a place I worked so hard to belong to and that helped me become me. It is leaving a place where I built a life all my own.
I don’t know the next time I will be in Athens after graduation. I can’t imagine how much it will change in the years to come. But one thing is for sure, no place or city can replace Athens, this town is magic. It will provide you with some of your closest friends, stories you will tell for years to come and yes, an education as well.
In my four years, I learned to have two homes, one 225 miles away and one here. To the out-of-state students who are doubting if Athens is for you, give it some time, and home will suddenly be Athens, Ohio.
Cassie is a senior studying communications at Ohio University. Please note the views expressed in this column do not reflect those of The Post. Want to talk to Cassie? Email her at cb086021@ohio.edu.
