From High School Hallways to College Classrooms

From High School Hallways to College Classrooms

Written By Victoria Hoffmann

Art by Rebecca Calvar

Our relationship started when we were seventeen and eighteen, graduating high school. Now we are turning twenty-two and twenty-three, graduating college. One can only imagine the changes we’ve experienced in arguably some of our most formative years.

I met my boyfriend four years ago thanks to my best friend Connor. He kept saying, “You two are like the same person,” building up our crushes until we finally met at his house before a party. Of course, Connor blew it by suggesting he should ask out another girl. I even awkwardly offered to wingman.

At the party, I nudged my soon-to-be boyfriend towards this girl, but I didn’t see him again until I was about to leave. After a few hours, we bumped into each other. Seeing him alone, I asked about the girl, and to my surprise it hadn’t worked out. 

“Yeah, she wasn’t interested, and neither was I. I am kind of interested in someone else anyway,” he said. My ears perked up, and I gave a small smile as he continued, “Why are you leaving so soon?” 

“The party is pretty lame. Lexi and I are leaving in about 15 minutes,” I replied. I remember feeling butterflies and the familiar heat rushing to my face. 

When talking about how we met months down the line, he said that seeing me blush gave him the cue to say the one sentence that started our relationship: “Can I make those 15 minutes worthwhile?”

He grabbed my hand and walked me to the kitchen, then to a couch, where we’d stay all night talking about the movie 50 First Dates, soccer, family, and how it was a crime we had never spoken before that night. 

Just weeks before we threw our high school graduation caps into the air, we started dating. We had little to no idea where our relationship would go, only that we liked each other and had three months to enjoy it. However, June quickly turned to July, and July to August. Before I knew it, we were sitting in our hometown park, faced with the fact that we would be long-distance in a matter of days. Neither of us planned to go to college in a relationship.

Inevitably, we liked each other too much, so we agreed to do it. A week later, I packed my mom’s car and headed to Millersville University in Lancaster, PA, and my boyfriend packed his dad’s truck and shipped to Boston. Then ensued late-night Facetime calls, more hard conversations, debating our decision, and a few sprinkled visits. 

While a laid-back relationship with few expectations sounds easy, it’s anything but. We were a new couple, seven hours apart, navigating college life just three months in. Balancing our new schools, friends, and classes while maintaining our relationship was challenging. 

We frequently checked in on how our relationship fit into our lives. Some days were great, filled with hours on FaceTime, while others brought homesickness, doubt, and missing each other nearly too much. Our honesty was key to getting through this chapter; even when I felt scared, I learned to communicate my feelings. Open communication and honesty (especially when it sucked) built the foundation for our relationship. 

Our long-distance journey ended shortly after one semester. My old university dropped my majors within two weeks, leaving me scrambling in front of the Common App. I always dreamed of living in Boston, independent of where I went to college. However, I was left defending my decision; I pleaded to my boyfriend and family that I was not moving for him. For others, it’s okay to move for your partner, just personally not after five months. This was when I started to learn to listen to myself. When it came to something I knew I wanted, I needed to block out the noise. I committed to Emerson in November of 2021. 

My first semester in Boston was everything. It completely transformed me and our relationship. I cherished every moment. We got lost in our new city, met new friends, and embraced new experiences. When it came to our relationship, Boston felt like a playground for two kids from a small town. Our sophomore year followed a similar pattern. We tried to see each other every day, but it became clear that our lives were becoming too intertwined.

As all things do, our relationship changed—our junior year was that turning point. I felt stuck in old patterns while my boyfriend was eager to make new friends and bond with his roommates. I was also living alone for the first time, and it forced me to confront my independence; I realized I wasn’t as self-sufficient as I thought. After lots of conversations, starting therapy, and journaling, I knew I needed to reconnect with myself. There is a good balance between being on your own, being with your partner, and spending time with friends. 

My boyfriend didn’t end up getting his internship in Boston that spring, and we ended up long-distance again. It was sad, but I used that time to focus on myself. I strengthened my bonds with friends and became comfortable in my own company. I began doing things solo: walks, coffee dates, parties, and even dining out alone. It was empowering to be my own friend.

Our second round of long-distance was easier because we were both growing individually while maintaining our connection. Long-term relationships allow you to witness each other's growth, highlighting the importance of developing your life alongside your partner’s. It’s true: you need your own life to share a life, the two don’t always overlap.

As I write this, we’re both getting ready for an apartment tour in Boston. The excitement is overwhelming! This is where we’ve decided to start our life together. I feel incredibly lucky. Every lesson and hard conversation proved to be worth it, and our journey together has been nothing short of amazing. From high school hand-holding to sharing mornings before work, we have truly grown up together.