People think I'm crazy. I'm leaving UT Austin — one of the best public universities in the country — for Schreiner University. A school most people have never heard of. My friends asked if I was failing out. I wasn't. I was drowning. 
UT Austin is huge. 50,000 students. My intro classes had 300 people. I never spoke to a professor. I never raised my hand. I just... sat there. Took notes. Took exams. Got Bs.
I wasn't learning. I was processing.
I started having panic attacks before exams. Not because I didn't know the material. Because I felt invisible. Like nothing I did mattered. Like I was a tiny cog in a giant machine.
My therapist said: "Some people thrive in big environments. Some people need smaller ones. There's no shame in that."
So I looked at small schools. Someone mentioned Schreiner. I almost laughed. Kerrville? Really?
But I visited. And something shifted.
I sat in on an art history class. Eight students. The professor — a real professor with a PhD — led a discussion. Everyone talked. Everyone had an opinion. The professor knew everyone's name by the second class.
I started crying in the bathroom afterward. Not sad crying. Relief crying. I had forgotten that college could feel like this.
I'm transferring. I'm losing some credits. I'm paying more tuition. My friends think I'm making a mistake.
But I was dying at UT. Quietly. Slowly. Dying.
Schreiner might not be perfect. But it's small. And I need small.
Sometimes the right choice looks crazy to everyone else. That's okay.
UT Austin is huge. 50,000 students. My intro classes had 300 people. I never spoke to a professor. I never raised my hand. I just... sat there. Took notes. Took exams. Got Bs.
I wasn't learning. I was processing.
I started having panic attacks before exams. Not because I didn't know the material. Because I felt invisible. Like nothing I did mattered. Like I was a tiny cog in a giant machine.
My therapist said: "Some people thrive in big environments. Some people need smaller ones. There's no shame in that."
So I looked at small schools. Someone mentioned Schreiner. I almost laughed. Kerrville? Really?
But I visited. And something shifted.
I sat in on an art history class. Eight students. The professor — a real professor with a PhD — led a discussion. Everyone talked. Everyone had an opinion. The professor knew everyone's name by the second class.
I started crying in the bathroom afterward. Not sad crying. Relief crying. I had forgotten that college could feel like this.
I'm transferring. I'm losing some credits. I'm paying more tuition. My friends think I'm making a mistake.
But I was dying at UT. Quietly. Slowly. Dying.
Schreiner might not be perfect. But it's small. And I need small.
Sometimes the right choice looks crazy to everyone else. That's okay.
