I turn the pages of photo albums. There is a girl I recognize, but don’t relate. A child whose biggest worries are dolls and Disney movies. These worries pale in comparison to the struggles I face today.

Invitations form a pile on the table. Wrinkles fall from my graduation gown as my childhood slips further and further away.

As I transition from a high school environment of about 3,000 students to a college surrounding of over 13,000 students. It overwhelms me.

I miss standing on my dad’s feet as we danced through the kitchen. I miss being held by my mom when I was sick.

I am no longer a child. Teddy bears have been replaced with textbooks. Highlighters and No. 2 pencils take the place of crayons. A royal blue cap substitutes a pink and silver tiara. A gown replaces a tutu.

I walk out of these high school doors as a senior, only to walk through the University of Arkansas doors as a freshman. At that moment, my educational life restarts.

I used to call adults “grown-ups.” In August, I thought that my senior year was going to drag on. Now, the days are disappearing before my eyes. In less than a month, I will walk away with a diploma in my hand and maturity in my character. Am I scared? No.

I’m terrified.