And Chef wasn’t wrong.

There’s a phase in life where you think you look cool and maybe you do, but you also have absolutely no idea what you’re doing.

This is that phase.

Leaning on walls like hardened beer soaked punk rockers, sunglasses on for no reason. Acting like you’ve got it all figured out when, in reality, you’re just trying figure out how to be even be a human, in any way.

Welcome to college.

Everyone thinks it’s about grades and classes. It’s not. You’ll forget most of that. What sticks is everything else, the social experiments, the late-night debates about nothing or maybe music and movies; all the bad decisions that turn into great stories.

It’s the first time you’re out there without a net, pretending you never needed one.

Amazing we all made it out alive or didn’t booted out on our asses. The shit we did.

In college you learn how to talk. How to listen. How to fail. That takes a bit longer, but an important one. Let got of the rope. And lastly, how to become someone, even if that someone changes every six months. And it did and it does.

You also realize something slightly terrifying:

Nobody knows what they’re doing. Ever.

Some people just commit harder to the act.

And somewhere between trying to look cool and trying not to fall apart, something real starts to take shape.

Your edges. Your voice. Your instincts.

Your wings.

College isn’t about becoming an expert or even learning a craft.

It’s about becoming a person.

And yeah, you might look absolutely ridiculous while it’s going down.

Chef knew.

That’s kind of the whole point.