When I first came to college, having a single room was my worst nightmare. All I wanted was a roommate I could yap with into the wee hours of the morning. Fast forward to junior year, and not having a single room became my worst nightmare — I dreaded this so much that I was willing to pay the sky-high and unaffordable Los Angeles rent for it. Honestly, it wasn’t about privacy; it was about not depending on someone else’s schedule to get some space for myself. 

I came into college expecting my roommate to be my go-to person because that’s what all those countless Reels and TikToks taught me — “telling my roommate every minor detail of my day.” Even sitcoms like “Friends” and “How I Met Your Mother” added fuel to the fire with multiple episodes dedicated to teary goodbyes when someone moved out — the only tears I shed while moving out were tears of joy. Naturally, though, as a naive underclassman, I didn’t know any better coming into college so it was very difficult for me to accept that the person always in my personal space, might not be the right person for me.

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Throughout our time living together, I spent a lot of time trying to appease my roommate, even though our relationship was extremely detrimental to my mental health. I was constantly anxious in my own home and was too scared of upsetting them, getting screamed at or being grunted at when I said “good morning.”  

I want to add that any relationship or roommate experience is a two-way street. While I felt my apartment was an uncomfortable environment for me, it’s possible that my roommate, too, felt the same. I’m far from perfect and I am sure I unknowingly did things to upset them, and I profusely apologize for that. I just wish we could have tried to work it out and had productive conversations, rather than our relationship becoming so irreparably damaged that I now turn in the other direction if I see them approaching.

It took months for me to grapple with feelings of inadequacy because everyone else was getting along, or at least seemed to be getting along, with their roommate except for me. I often wondered if I was simply a cruel, inconsiderate person who was hard to live with. In such moments, though, I needed to take a step back and ask myself — so what? Why does it matter that we aren’t each other’s Monica (Courteney Cox) and Rachel (Jennifer Aniston)? I’m not horrible just because I don’t get along with my roommate. At the end of the day, it’s not always easy for people from different backgrounds, often even practical strangers, to exist together in 130 square feet. 

The more I spoke to my friends about my anxiety stemming from this situation — and a special shoutout to each friend who spent countless hours listening —, the more I realized how normal conflicts between roommates are. But, we all are so busy cultivating this myth of a perfect roommate bond that we often ignore the reality that being best friends with your roommate isn’t the norm, but rather the exception. Instead, a lot of people have a variety of roommate experiences — some are great friends, while some may not see or talk to each other often and some are permanently scarred and traumatized like me. 

After this experience, I realized that a roommate can be someone you are just cohabitating with, nothing more and nothing else. Though I am living with two close friends this year and each of us having our own rooms has reduced the likelihood of us stepping on each other’s toes, my mindset is also different. My roommates are my roommates, and I shouldn’t succumb to any pressure to compromise my boundaries and mental peace for them. 

Please remember that while it would be nice to come home to someone genuinely excited to see you, no roommate relationship is ever worth sacrificing your mental health. So, if that means not yapping into the wee hours of the morning with them, so be it. 

Edhita Singhal is a junior writing about life lessons she has learned in college in her column, “Thinking Out Loud,” which runs every other Wednesday.