The day before my internship began at The Star, I dropped my dad off at the airport. We had just completed a road trip from my hometown in Virginia. As I pulled away from the drop-off area, I started to cry.
Don’t worry. This is pretty standard for me. Whenever I move somewhere new and my parents leave, I almost always cry. Not for long. Just enough to release the mix of sadness and uncertainty that comes with leaving home.
This summer was my first time moving to a new city without knowing anyone. I was excited. But I also felt apprehensive…