Ten Things I Wish Someone Told Me Before College (and Life)

College teaches you how to structure an argument, cite sources, and maybe even cook a passable meal—but it doesn’t teach you how to say no, trust yourself, or protect your soul when the noise gets loud. Below are the things I wish someone had told me before I entered and graduated from college.

1. Write Your Eulogy Before You Go

Seriously. Not because you’re morbid, but because it forces clarity. What do you want people to say about you when you’re not in the room? What will matter when the job titles and the trophies fade? Start there. Keep it in your wallet or a place where you’ll see it regularly. It keeps you accountable.

When you’re struggling to make a decision, read the eulogy. Which path will get you closer to its essence? This helps you clarify what matters to you. But for the love of God, don’t leave this on the counter for your parents to find. I had a student write his eulogy only to have his panicked mother interpret it as a “final goodbye.”

2. Remember: We’re All Sinners and Saints.

Just because someone’s sins differ from yours doesn’t mean they’re worse. You’ll meet people who disappoint you, and you’ll disappoint yourself, too. Grace doesn’t mean ignoring harm. It means remembering we’re all a mix of good intentions and human frailty. Sometimes another person is “terrible” simply because they bring out the “terrible” in you. Grace doesn’t mean tolerance, however. You’re allowed to walk away from people whose issues trigger your own. But try to be a touch less judgmental. I’m working on this one.

3. Extend Hands in Both Directions

Always reach back to lift someone up and reach forward to ask for help. Life isn’t a solo climb; it’s a rope line. Hold on to each other. I never imagined I’d be in a position to help others until I became a college professor. It was my way of paying back the people who helped me along the way. A single, just-in-time encouraging word from an adult can stick with someone for life. Seeing something positive in someone younger than you is one of the greatest gifts you can give them. Don’t keep it to yourself.

4. Learn the Art of the 5-Second Pause Before Speaking

Before you speak—especially when emotions run hot—pause. Count to five. Then decide if it’s your ego, your fear, or your wisdom that’s about to talk. More often than not, it’s your ego or fear. I haven’t mastered this. When I’ve zinged someone with the perfect comeback, I’ve felt great…for about five minutes. Then came the shame, the regret, the embarrassment.

My late father-in-law mastered the art of keeping quiet and choosing his words carefully when upset. So has my husband. He’s never yelled at me once in 25 years of marriage. He’s never uttered a cruel word to me or anyone. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t make his point. It’s just that more often than not, he takes a minute to reframe and calm himself. That kind of silence? Wins.

5. Life Is Like Cookies

When I was little, I used to bake with my grandma. She let me crack the eggs into the cookie batter. It was a huge deal. I messed it up, of course—shells everywhere. I cried, ashamed I’d failed at such an important task. She just kept stirring and said, “Lilbits [her nickname for me], life is like making cookies…not everything that goes into it looks great, but if you keep stirring, the end result is amazing.” I had no idea what she meant, but I never forgot it.

When she passed, I reflected deeply on her legacy. She wasn’t a rocket scientist. She didn’t cure cancer. But perhaps she did something equally as important. She loved me. She gave me her time, her love, her grace. She encouraged my little perfectionist self to loosen up. To this day, I tell my kids that any good, patience (admittedly rare), or kindness they see or feel from me is a direct result of her.

The messy middle of cookies—and life—matters. That warm, gooey, imperfect center? That’s where it gets good. Don’t chase perfection. Stir the batter. See what happens.

6. Stop Going to a Dry Well for Water

If someone repeatedly drains you, disappoints you, or makes you feel small, stop hoping they’ll change. My dad was tough on me. When I got a 97% on a test, he’d ask where the other three points went. I thank him for giving me drive and a work ethic. He pushed me to be more than my anxious younger self would have ever dared to be.

But it was hard to feel like I never quite met the mark. One semester in law school, I got a 4.0. I called him, confident. “Dad, I got a 4.0. What do you say now?”  “You probably took easy classes,” he replied. I cracked. I sobbed…the ugly, soul-deep, snot-inducing kind of crying.

“When are you going to be enough for you?” my boyfriend (now husband) asked. “When will you stop going to a dry well for water?” He was right. I stopped that day.

7. You Can’t Wear All Hats Well at Once

You can’t be the perfect student, daughter, friend, and fitness guru all at once. I tried. I said yes to everything until I burned out. I stayed late at work for students while my kids waited at home. I woke up early to work out so it wouldn’t impact my family. I stayed up late grading papers to get them back to students quickly.

Soon, I resented people, but the truth was: I had trained them to rely on me and to expect a “yes” from me. A health scare finally forced me to stop. Fortunately, my body let me off with a warning (unlike that recent traffic stop). 

Choose your tradeoffs with intention, not guilt. Givers must learn to say no. Otherwise, the takers will take until there’s nothing left.

8. When Someone Insults Your Soul, Don’t Look Back.

If someone attacks your character, your calling, or your core, walk away. You don’t owe them a dramatic exit or forgiveness.

Years ago, someone we loved betrayed our family deeply. The damage was irreversible. He apologized. I didn’t accept. He still waves. I don’t wave back. He stole something sacred. I left. I never looked back. God can forgive him. I can’t. Perhaps someday I'll get there. See #9 below.

9. What You Are Isn’t Fixed

You’re not your major, your mistakes, your best day, or your worst. You’re allowed to change. I used to be an extrovert. Now I prefer quiet. I used to love concerts. Now I wish they came in matinee form. I used to say yes to every invitation. I don’t anymore. I focus on my family, my work, my dog, and the friends who really know, see, and show up for me.

That’s enough.

10. Your Real Résumé Is Written in Invisible Ink

It’s not your title or your accolades that define you. It’s how you treat people when no one’s watching. Your real résumé is written in kindness, humility, and decency. One day, someone might read it aloud. Make sure it says something you’re proud of. (See #1.)

Final Thoughts

College gave me a degree, mentors, and memories. But it didn’t prepare me for how to live with purpose or how to protect the parts of me no one else can see. These are the lessons I had to learn the hard way. My hope is that you won’t have to. College is one chapter. You’re a whole story in the making.

Write a good one.

Sincerely,

Liz Stapp

Liz Stapp