We’ve just completed our first go at navigating the college admission process. I have to admit, I’ve had daytime nightmares for months just imagining the weight of it all.

After all, there are entire BOOKS out there, filled with information about how to apply to college. I started to wonder if we needed to take some sort of prep course in order to do this at least somewhat successfully. 

As with many things, I may have overreacted a bit.

Our personal experience has been somewhat non-traditional. My daughter applied to college as a transfer student. She stayed home for a year and took classes at our community college to save some money, as well as to test out different courses to see where her interests fell. 

She’s one of those kids who wanted to be a vet from the ages of 7-15. Then when she realized she would have to take YEARS of math and science classes (not to mention invasively probing animals on a daily basis and not just playing with cuddly puppies) she changed her mind. 

That left her unsure about what she’d like to do with her future. Community college was a great option for her. Highly recommend.

But eventually, the time came for her to apply to those 4-year universities. To my great joy and surprise, the process, at least for a transfer student, was relatively painless. She applied to her top few choices and was admitted to all. 

What we did not anticipate was that the bigger challenge actually came after she had been accepted and made a final choice. 

The student housing portal is a minefield of wrong turns and broken links. It’s the ultimate test of patience, resolve, and general will to live. If one of those areas is lacking on a particular day, then it is strongly advised you crawl back under the covers and try again later.  

We tripped and fumbled our way through submitting the initial housing deposit. But the next steps were far more precarious. 

I’m here to tell you, there are a whole lot of words.

Entire pages filled with words.

Why are there so many words? An overwhelming volume of words. Words that, on their own, seem relatively innocent. But after a while, you realize they are using a variety of ways to simply say the exact same thing the previous paragraph already said.

Nobody asked me, but if I were in control of the housing portal, I would probably suggest something much more simple and user friendly.

“Do you want to live in a dorm?” (Check yes or no.)

“Do you have an idea of who you want to room with?” (Write their name here. Or not.)

“Do you know which dorm you’d like to live in?” (Tell us.)

“Do you have money?” (Go ahead and send it to us now.)

Wonderfully simple and efficient. It would make the entire process so much easier. 

But instead, there are rivers of words flowing down each page. Also, their use of Times New Roman with a 9pt font makes me want to cry a little bit.

Eventually, we secured her housing deposit and completed the application portion. But this is our first rodeo, so I obviously had a plethora of remaining questions as we continued to navigate the website. 

Deadlines and rules, fees and applications…it just makes an already emotional situation feel much more daunting. My feelings have been relentless as I try to push down the idea of entering a season I honestly couldn’t imagine would ever come. Or at least, I imagined we had SO MUCH more time before we got here.

My daughter will be at a school that is about 9 hours away from us. For the first time in 18 years, I won’t be able to hug her before she goes to bed each night. I won’t see her come down the stairs for breakfast with bed head and wearing shorts in the dead of winter. We won’t be stopping by Dutch Bros for coffee on a whim or go shopping on a random Saturday morning. I’m going to miss her. A lot.

So trying to stifle all the feelings while simultaneously trying to do adult-y things really gets exhausting. I’m in no mood to log into the portal and I don’t want to enter my credit card number 15 different times in 15 different places.

Eventually I was desperate to speak to a human in order to get some of my questions answered. I reluctantly picked up the phone and tapped out a number with an unfamiliar area code.

The soft voice on the other end of the phone greeted me with a deeply familiar southern accent. Having grown up in Texas, it was wildly comforting to hear, “How can ah haelp youuu?”

I began to explain the points of confusion when it came to navigating the student portal as well as the housing application. 

She answered each of my questions, and demonstrated extreme patience when I continued to think of additional inquiries as our conversation unfolded. 

Finally, I profusely thanked her for her generous help and expressed how grateful I was for her kindness. Just before I hung up, she asked, “So, where are you from?” I told her we were in Colorado, and before I knew it, we were engaged in casual conversation about snow and our shared belief that the sun really does make all the difference in cold weather. 

As we wrapped things up, she said “Well, your daughter is headed to warmer weather, a small little town, and the absolute best place you could ever send her! She’s gonna LOVE it!” 

I choked back the sob that had been threatening for days, and managed to squeak out, “Thank you so much. We are so excited for her.”

And we are. 

I write a lot about the process of slowly letting go and releasing our kids into the world. I know I’m not alone, because I know plenty of mamas trying to figure out how to do this well. It’s not easy, and there are even times when it’s physically painful to let them go and find their way in the world.

But the process is so much easier when we encounter the kindness of strangers along the way. 

We’re gonna be ok, y’all.