As 12-year-old me sank deeply into the couch, snug in old gym clothes and fluffy slippers, my mother asked why I stayed up late watching weird Asian cartoons.

When I landed in LA to start college at UCLA in the fall of 2016, I was ecstatic. I grew up in Boise, Idaho, a far cry from a big city, and the vastness and excitement of LA was almost overwhelming for me.

UCLA’s renowned dining halls dish up diverse and adventurous plates, but even its various and inviting menus don’t satiate the hunger I have for the food I grew up eating at home.

Drug dependency is defined as a state in which a person only functions normally in the presence of the drug, usually due to repeated use of the drug.

The lights are off, and outside our apartment there’s nothing to be heard but crickets chirping and the occasional car driving through our small town, New Salem, Massachusetts.

Sitting around a small fire in a friend’s backyard during winter break, I spun a marshmallow in my hand, unsure of how to answer the question: “How would you say you’ve changed over your first quarter of college?” Old friends, people I haven’t seen in months but have known for years, watched me as I fidgeted.

There are a lot of things that are quintessential to the UCLA experience: walking up the Hill after a long day of classes, eating ice cream at Diddy Riese and watching some of the best college sports teams in the country.