I Hate Change by Paige B. '24

It’s 6:30am. The natural lighting floods in past the courtyard, filling every square inch of this (albeit slightly smaller than the previous one) room. The camera once again pans around the room, revealing a bookshelf more filled than before, a new coffee cart with 16 mugs, and me, sitting on my bed typing a blogpost.

I’ve started waking up way too early ever since I got back from my trip home for winter break. It’s making me a mildly functioning adult before 9am– a feat I once thought impossible. So now, I get to start of my days writing in bed as opposed to immediately running to class (from the farthest possible dorm to run to campus from).

Waking up this early was a change. One I didn’t intend on, but a change nonetheless. I am left thinking about how much has truly changed over the course of winter break. I am left thinking: I hate change.

A short montage of packing a backpack, taking meds, throwing on shoes, and putting on eyeliner plays. I grab my bag, and leave the room. With the closing of the door, the camera cuts away to a peaceful Next House Dining breakfast.

Change that happens slowly– like becoming older or the changing of the seasons– that I’m okay with. I can anticipate it. But sometimes, a change is so quick you can’t even process what’s happening.

Flashback to less than 24 hours ago when I was moving cartload after cartload from 2East (a wing of Next House) to 3West (another wing of Next House).

Less than 6 months ago, I thought I’d stay in my old room until the day I died (or, y’know, graduated). But the more I hung out with my friends on 2East, the more it dawned on me that they won’t be here next year. We were talking about grad school applications and job offers. I began to realize that next year, I’d be alone. And as selfish as it was, I began to realize that I needed to change this.

The realization itself– the realization that I wanted/needed to switch wings– was slow. But the implementation, was immediate. I had my room packed and moved over in less than four hours.

Bam: a smash cut to me walking to my first class of the day: 18.966: Geometry of Manifolds II.

Why does every life changing moment feel like it happens over the course of hours if not minutes? Graduating high school, getting into MIT, moving to campus, etc. I haven’t gotten used to how quickly life can change, even if the anticipation for the change has been building for months or years.

I knew months ago that my mental health needed to start improving and fast. But I still feel weird? about the changes I’ve been making to do so. I’ve been waking up earlier because I like taking my time to get out of bed. I’ve moved floors so I stop worrying about being alone next year. I’ve been making changes, ones that are supposed to be good, but can’t stop feeling like I’m doing something wrong, because I find myself saying No to people to make these changes.

Yet another montage of math classrooms and coffee drinking later, and we cut to me walking back home.

MIT has been teaching me how to say No. No to commitments, No to living on 2East, No to working on that problemset right now because if I see any more math right now my eyes are going to start to burn. It’s selfish (at least it feels that way), but it’s important. It’s selfish (at least it feels that way), but it’s important.

I can’t do everything. I couldn’t stay in 2East. I need to do what’s best for me.

It’s a change. And I hate it.
I hope one day I won’t hate it so much.

A Glee-esque outro theme plays.