This is called "compartmentalization" -- a fancy word for having different lives.
Whether you can pull it off or not will depend on several factors. First, as others have pointed out, there's yourself. If you're transitioning because you're gender dysphoric, you'll likely find that you dread going into the old life so much that it'll either become cut away entirely or, more likely, a social milieu in which you'll eventually come out. Frankly, a lot of transitioners take this path when realizing that family/old life won't be supportive of transition, and as such this isn't a bad strategy.
I had a similar experience with work -- I was full time everywhere except at my job. Why? Two reasons. First, I didn't want to jeopardize my source of income, and I knew the procedures I needed (electrolysis, facial surgery, breast surgery, bottom surgery) were going to be expensive. Second, I always planned to move on from my transitional status, meaning I wanted to live a woman's life without any kind of narrative disclosure. Not coming out at work would help to preserve my privacy -- because the story is just too juicy not to share, and it will spread given enough opportunity. And it was hard! The dysphoria, I mean, being constantly misgendered, but at least I was being misgendered predictably and understandably.
I eventually quit that job and started a new career, without any ties to the old life.
So what does it take to compartmentalize your life? You might have the psychological fortitude, but it takes more than that, which gets me to the "second" of the list started back in the first paragraph: logistics. You'll be transitioning someplace new and distant, which is great. You just pretty much don't spread your story like wildfire, to keep it from circling back home. And this goes both ways -- the less you speak of your past, the less you'll be haunted by it in your new life.
Here are some tips: Get your therapist letters for HRT and surgery prepared in advance. Also, get your name changed officially in advance, and not in your home town; before classes start, get this name change submitted to the university. This way, when you arrive in your new location, you won't ever have to present as "deadname" and you can graduate properly gendered, and you'll be able to access whatever medical resources you need to finish transition. Of course, everyone there will still know, but they'll only know you as a transitioner. Which may be fine for you, but if not, don't fret, for college towns tend to be pretty insular and you can always move on to someplace with no ties to it (unless you hope to get a job in academia). Also, be sure to keep up with voice training and electrolysis -- they make a huge difference in eliciting the proper gendering.
Compartmentalization isn't for everyone. It's an extra layer of work, and it generally isn't a viable long-term strategy psychologically speaking; it's better as a temporary fix. It can be very useful exercise, though, if you're planning to practice non-disclosure in your female life, both in terms of protecting your narrative as well as building up the habits necessary to keep it that way.
All that said, I still live a compartmentalized life. I have three compartments: non-disclosed, closed narrative, and open narrative. Non-disclosed is the vast majority of my life -- in my work and social life, I'm just another woman. With my family, we practice "closed narrative," meaning that we all know what happened but it's not a subject for discussion and my wishes for non-disclosure with the rest of the world are respected. And then there are the parts of my life where the narrative is open -- like this forum. (I also have a few friends, all of whom practice non-disclosure, with whom we'll bounce back and forth between open and closed narrative practices. Like, one night we'll have open narrative and talk about the experience, and another night -- or any time we're out on the town -- closed narrative rules apply.)
In all my compartments, I'm properly gendered. What I couldn't bear would be to have a box of dysphoria in my life.
