Since the first day of my life, I was designated to the role of guinea pig. Every eldest child knows what I am talking about. We are the kids that parents get to say “Oops” and “Well, at least we know better now.” We are the kids that experiment with that school, that sport, that instrument and that teacher. We are the kids that – at least for the most part – are better off and tougher for all the pathways we paved for our younger siblings to follow. And yet, we are also the kids that are used to the unknown, the confusing questions, that make up our future.

For most of my life, I’ve learned to adjust and to cruise along the life of a guinea pig with only a few minor bumps and hiccups. However I hit a roadblock about three-fourths of the way through my sophomore year. After taking the PSAT earlier that year, I received my first college email with a fair amount of shock. College? No, it felt like I’d just started high school.

Even at this point I was still floating on the dreamy belief that going to college was something along the lines of a buffet. I would consider my options, decide what I was in the mood for, find my favorite and all would be set. Little did I know what the process of transitioning from high school to college would consume. The truth had been hidden from my naive self that hours upon hours would be spent on research, essays, endless forms, applications and more (the list doesn’t end).

Even as the stressed and confused guinea pig that I will admit to being, I have to say that the concept of college has hit my parents nearly as hard as it hit me. With the process being so drastically different than it was for them, they have also gotten a taste of what it’s like to be the first. All the new unknowns revolving around college and the steps we should be taking take two very different ends of the spectrum. Most days they leave it all up to me, which has definitely forced me to take initiative throughout the process so far. However occasionally this “peace” breaks in the form of a panicked conversation that – in the end – helps get us on the same page again.

In addition to my parents fluctuating emotions, I have discovered another downfall of being the oldest when it comes to college. I was never dragged on college visits as a child to tour universities and see what college is all about. While young ones may complain as my 11-year-old sister now does, I see this as a blessing in disguise. My other sister Lexi, who’s only a year younger than me, admits that it’s been helpful following me around to colleges since her freshman year. I wish I had been given the chance to simply observe a school with no pressure; I bet this early first impression leaves lasting effects more often than not.

Sure, it can be a little scary at times, blindly leading the way for not only yourself but your siblings, but while it may seem like a struggle now, we are also the kids that will be better off for it some day.