Photography by TJ Cannistraro
If you’re reading this, call your mom.
Coming to college was my first time being away from my family. Now I am exactly 555 miles away from the place I’ve called home for my entire life. 555 miles away from my house, my friends, and my family. 555 miles away from my mom.
My transition to college felt like a leap into independence. No more relying on my mom and dad to hold my hand through life and guide me through my growth. My parents were still there for me, just from all the way over there.
My everyday conversations with my mom are through the phone. Still, I’m not scared to say it–I call my mom every single day, usually more than once.
I miss home so much and so often that I initially questioned my decision to continue my journey so far away. Even though I was on the right track with making friends and finding community, it was never the same as being home with my family. All the times I felt lonely, I knew I wasn’t actually alone, but I still didn’t have the same comfort of my family that I’d once had.
My initial loneliness felt one-sided because I’d been the one distanced from my family, who was still together. My mom had left her entire family and country to come to the United States when she was around my age, which meant that my situation wasn’t “that hard” in my head. I wanted to keep all my vulnerabilities to myself without ever worrying or burdening my family, who’d overcome so much more and who felt too far to do anything.
Still, in the moments I distanced myself from my family and limited my communication, my family never let me detach. During my most stressful weeks, my mom would make sure I made at least one call to her every single day. My busiest days always followed with a check-in text waiting for a FaceTime. My loneliest hours were filled with my mom’s voice helping me pass the time however I needed.
No matter how hard my own thoughts fought, my mom never let me feel truly alone. There was never a second away from home that I couldn’t call my mom and let everything out. My moments of sadness, of frustration, of joy, and of pride were all felt in unity with my mom. Every call with my mom became a reminder of the reasons I work so hard, the inspirations that guide me, and the love I’ll always have to protect me from however far I am.
No matter how far you may be, your people will always be yours. My people will always be my family. The person who makes any bright or dim moment shine is my mom. I’ll always need my mom, and that’ll always be ok.
So, no matter how you’re feeling right now, call your person. Send a text to your best friend, stop by your favorite teacher’s office hours, mail a letter to your grandma, journal to your future self – find your way to reach out. If you’re reading this, call your mom.
Anya M., Washington University in St. Louis
