When I walked onto Grounds for the first time two years ago, I had no idea how much I would miss being around real people. I mean real people: mothers and fathers, babies and grandparents, little sisters and big brothers. I immediately missed coming home to my family every night. I missed hearing laughter from neighborhood kids at the bus stop. I missed hugs from my mom on really crappy days and jokes my dad would crack when I would vent about my stressful week. I missed the daily responsibilities of being a daughter, a sister, a neighbor and a niece.
The first time I fully realized this was about three weeks into my first year. An older friend drove me and three other first-year girls to Whole Foods on a Sunday night. It was the first time I had left the University bubble and I was excited — so excited, in fact, that I teared up as soon as we walked in the store. Maybe it was the smell of fresh food or the reminder of home, but in hindsight, I think it was the simple joy of encountering real life people for the first time in weeks.
I was embarrassed — not to mention very, very confused. I mean, I cried because I went into Whole Foods. I was uncertain why I felt empty and unsure how to fill the void. But the answer has become increasingly clear to me during the past two years and I’ve realized I’m not so crazy after all. You see, loneliness is a basic part of our genetic makeup. It wails in our hearts like a siren, begging us to love our neighbor, to find friends and to build a family.
We are made for community. We are made to love each other unconditionally and give ourselves away to each other in the midst of that love. Seeing a dad hold his daughter’s hand as she skips down a grocery store aisle or a brother pushing and teasing his younger sister behind their parents’ backs or a mom explaining all of the different types of apples to her curious kids — all of these are brief glimpses into the love of a family and reminders of the kind of community we yearn to be part of.
That night, I was pushed to evaluate my responsibilities and decide the kinds of relationships I want to form. Loneliness wailed loudly in my heart, pushing me to embrace Charlottesville and all of the wonderful people who call this place home.
Whether you’re the type prone to crying in public places or you’re the person who never thinks much about any of this, I encourage you to seek out community, to invest yourself in relationships of all shapes and sizes and to make this place your home.
Peyton’s column runs biweekly Wednesdays. She can be reached at p.williams@cavaierdaily.com.
Read More
Days on the Lawn gives newly admitted Class of 2028 a taste of Grounds
By Miriella Jiffar and Mia Tan | YesterdayThe annual spring program invites newly admitted students and their families to experience information sessions, resource fairs and tours around Grounds.
The weight of saying “I love you”
By Mai Hukuoka | 3 days agoWhile grand gestures can't fully describe the weight of love, that doesn't mean love has to be small. Love can, and should, feel heavy.
Cooking, my mother’s love language
By Emilie Kim | 5 days agoDespite our different temperaments, my mother and I understand each other perfectly through the language of food.
