The day I got kicked out of the Ivy League university I attended. It wasn't for academic reasons, I had actually been doing well. It was for "endangering the safety and peace of students." (aka stealing)
All my life I had been the minority, lower class student who had excelled at academics, more so than his white, often extremely wealthy classmates. I received a prestigious local scholarship, parents in my community often knew who I was without me ever meeting them, I was expected to go pretty far and do awesome things. And all of this got to my head. I became a pretentious prick who low-key enjoyed clarifying and saying "oh not THAT Columbia, the one in New York!" (there was another Columbia in our region). At the time, my relationship with my mother had been rocky. At some level, I resented her for not being able to provide me the opportunities and life changing experiences that my wealthy friends and peers had. I now understand that this is wrong and unfair but I'll keep going with the story.
Throughout college, I blacked out frequently while drinking, waking up in complete confusion Friday, Saturday, and Sunday mornings. At the time, I had never felt like I had a problem with drinking. It was just the college culture. I don't remember the actions that led to me being kicked out. The day I was expelled felt like it didn't happen. I didn't cry, I didn't get angry. I just sat in my chair twiddling my thumbs thinking of what I could do next to get the decision reversed. I appealed to the Dean of Students and was rejected the day after Halloween. That day was probably the first day where I truly understood the magnitude of what had happened and the realization that I would NEVER be able to go back to Columbia finally hit me.
When I went back home, I could sense the disappointment in my mom's tone and eyes. My close friends were shocked too. I mean, this type of shit is straight from a movie or show, it shouldn't happen in real life! They were at a complete loss for words. That was the start of a few dark months. I was taking the rest of the academic year off for obvious reasons. I found a tutoring gig to keep me busy. At nights though, I frequently cried myself to sleep, reading my expulsion letter over and over and thinking where I went and what I did wrong. I kept drinking and and eventually starting moving to cocaine for relief. I was part of a high school conference director team for an event in New York. Scared to go back to the city that had kicked me out, I purchased 4 grams of cocaine and was high the entire week I was there. The worst part about all this was having to flat out lie to everyone who wasn't my close friend about the reason why I was home and not at school. I felt like 90% of the people knew the true reason but neither of us wanted to bring it up. I felt like such a disappointment. All the while, I was reapplying to college. I only got accepted into the school I currently attend, the one that didn't ask about my previous disciplinary record (I was not going to lie on the Common App). I kept going back to getting kicked out as the source of my problems - "if this hadn't happened, shitty event xyz wouldn't have happened either." I still was wallowing in my pity party. I resorted to hurting myself to deal with the emotional pain. The look on my mom's face when she was the cuts was heartbreaking.
After an up and down summer of falling in love and realizing it would never work out, I finally broke down for the last time and began to take care of myself. The best piece of advice I received was during the summer I started AA (no joke, you receive some of the best advice from people who were broken and were able to put the pieces back together). After listening to my story, a man told me that no matter how hard I tried what's done is done, that I was the only source of my misery, and to let it go. Three short powerful words. Let it go.
Almost two years after that encounter, I've learned to let it go. The emotional scars remain in my mind. The physical scarring is barely visible but still there. But I'm healthy, surrounded by friends and a mom who love me, and most importantly, I'm happy with where my life experiences have taken me. I am extremely proud to be graduating from my new college this upcoming December. People have asked if I hold any resentment toward the school or regret toward what happened. I now tell them - Resent what? Resent the people that changed my views on humility, what I valued, and managed to make my life into the blessing that it currently is? I do not hold any anger. In fact, if I could, I would thank them for helping me learn what it means to be a friend, teaching me to put aside my ego and ask for help, and teaching me the importance of being able love and take care of myself.
tldr: got kicked out of uni, went through rough times but learned important lessons, currently never been happier than I currently am.