It’s crunch time for prospective students. Acceptance letters began flooding prospies’ mailboxes a couple weeks ago, and the lucky select have until May 1st to decide to which academic institution they want to fork over their parents’ second mortgage.

If the hoards of industrious-looking high schoolers descending upon campus are any indication, it seems the class of 2013 is taking this decision seriously.

As well they should; the experiences, friends, lessons, and debt they accumulate over the next four years will play a major role in shaping their lives.

As someone who has been through this process twice in as many years, I empathize with next year’s college bound. I also offer this advice to all three prospectives who picked up today’s Daily Campus.

First off, congratulations. You’ll never again have to write an essay about an ethical storm you’ve weathered or inflate your three community service hours into a Nobel Peace Prize. That’s got to feel good.

Second, relax. While the decision you make over the next few months is important, it’s not as final as it seems.

I went to a performing arts high school where I majored in musical theater. While other kids were learning calculus and physics, I was taking directing and diction. I studied Shakespeare and Miller, Wilde and O’Neill. I did a pretty sweet Irish dialect, too.

I’d always been good at academics, though, and that side kept tugging at me. In the few minutes a day I had out of rehearsal, I read Plato, Friedman, and Tolstoy. From the time I was thirteen, I knew I’d someday go off to a first-rate college and study economics.

When I graduated high school, I did just that. I went to Macalester College, home of anti-bottled water crusaders and tofu enthusiasts.

I did well in all my classes. My first calculus professor showed me the elegance of integration and convinced me to get a second major in math. Jimmy John’s must have made a fortune supplying my friends’ late night Kafka debates.

Something was wrong, though. I felt directionless. I lacked purpose. Unable to place what exactly the problem was, I drifted through friends, alcohol, and personalities; nothing quite stuck.

It wasn’t that I was falling apart; I made the Dean’s List, formed some lasting friendships, and played a lead in a mainstage production. But there was a hollowness tearing a hole in me.

After months of trying to place this malaise, it hit me: I had foregone my passion. Until that point, the idea that theater was anything more than a high school fling had never occurred to me.

I’d gone to Macalester because that’s what I was supposed to do. It was the path I was supposed to follow.

But I have this drive to create. To deny it is to deny something fundamental in myself.

Once I realized what I’d done, I began looking at theater programs around the country. I was drawn to SMU’s theater studies track.

The major is concentrated and defined; five of my six classes this year are in some area of theater. It’s also broad and flexible; I can combine my interests in acting, playwriting, and directing to tailor a degree to my needs.

When I visited SMU, I knew I belonged here. The campus was beautiful. The people I met were warm and inviting. The classes I visited challenged me to think in new ways about what I wanted to become.

I’d found my home.

The difference between my life this year and last year is enormous. I’ve made a group of friends unlike any I’ve ever known. More importantly, I’m doing what I love day in and day out. I don’t mind leaving home at 7:30 in the morning and not getting home until midnight. I’ve learned who I really am.

I’m glad I took my roundabout route here. Being away from theater for a year reminded me why I do what I do; I can’t go without it.

I also learned that there are few things in life you can’t change. If you make a mistake-even a $45,000 one-you can always find a way to fix it. For me, it took leaving my friends and transferring into a tight-knit program as an outsider. It was a risk, but it was worth it.

If I could go back again knowing what I do now, I’d have come straight to SMU But it took a year of disappointment to show me that. I emerged more focused, more determined, and more self-aware.

I learned how to pursue my dreams.

Nathaniel French is a sophomore theater studies and math double major. He can be reached for comment at [email protected].