When I first came to Austin, it just wasn’t home to me. The first weeks of my freshman year, I dreaded waking up every day because I couldn’t wake up to the smell of Mom’s cooking, the sound of Newton barking, and the sight of my “princess” pink-painted bedroom walls. Instead, the smell of my roommate’s burnt toast, the sound of construction everywhere, and the sight of dull cream-colored walls – to which I pasted sticky notes with assignment deadlines on them – welcomed me as I opened my eyes.

One fine day, it hit me: the pride of being a longhorn. I saw people wearing the color I am wearing. I hear the voice of thousands singing the “Eyes of Texas” with me. With a dozen others I barely knew, I boldly proclaimed that UT will beat Notre Dame. I found pride in wearing burnt orange – pride that we share within the forty acres. Austin might not be home, but it sure is where I belong.