The seven-hour drive to campus never could have prepared me for the chaos of move-in day. I was already running late, navigating an unfamiliar city with two vehicles packed to the brim, which included an entire truck bed of my belongings, completely exposed to the Boston rain. 

Arriving on campus, I felt stressed, overwhelmed, and deeply intimidated. This journey wasn't just a massive leap for me; it was entirely uncharted territory for my family. I knew this path would lead me to incredible opportunities, but a quiet voice inside me feared it would be too hard, too competitive, and just too different. 

When I finally checked in, the first thing I noticed was the FYRE (First-Year Retreat and Experience) booth. They were impossible to miss, with giant signs, loud music, and even louder voices. Instead of walking over to say hello, I shied away, heading straight to my dorm to spend hours unpacking. By noon, my family and I needed a break, so we went out to grab lunch. Once again, I walked right past the high-energy FYRE table, keeping my head down and heading straight to Joe’s for a slice of pizza. 

Back in my dorm, a mountain of boxes still awaited me, but I couldn't bring myself to start. Looking out the window of my top-floor room in Holworthy, I could see the FYRE committee below. They were still just as vibrant and energetic as they had been hours earlier. I realized I couldn't hide upstairs forever; it was time to face the crowd and introduce myself. 

As I approached the table, they spotted me before I even reached them, welcoming me with open arms and loud cheers. You would think that kind of reception would put an anxious freshman at ease. Somehow, it didn't. Even though they were genuinely thrilled to see me, I couldn't shake the heavy feeling that I didn't actually belong there. 

Imposter syndrome is an incredibly heavy weight to carry. An acceptance letter doesn't teach you how to handle the massive privilege placed upon your shoulders, nor does it prepare you for the sudden shifts ahead. I spent days battling my own self-doubt, but there was one specific phrase the team kept repeating that I just couldn't shake from my head: 

“You belong here.” 

Three words they had no idea would completely reframe my mindset. As I went through the week, it felt as though an internal reminder kept pinging in my mind every single time I heard that phrase. It never felt scripted or disingenuous. Each time someone said it, I became a little more convinced that maybe—just maybe—they were right. Maybe Harvard could actually be a place for someone like me.

Any lingering doubts I had left completely vanished by the end of the week. After days of learning about financial literacy, figuring out campus resources, and making a new best friend, we gathered to hear President Alan Garber speak. He shared his own journey about how he, too, came from a rural background, climbed the ladder, and made massive leaps forward. His story was deeply inspiring, and his demeanor was incredibly grounded, but it was his closing message I will always remember. He ended his speech with the exact same words that finally gave me the courage to believe in myself: 

“You belong here.” 

This isn't just a story about Harvard, and it's not just a story about FYRE. Both have been pivotal to my growth, and I am profoundly grateful to now stand on the other side, serving as a leader in the very program that welcomed me so graciously. But my main goal in sharing this is to remind everyone that you belong exactly where you are. If you are thriving, you’ve earned every bit of this moment. And if you are struggling, trust that you have the strength to overcome it.