Something Vexing: On Change, Crossroads, and Growing Up
So, I'm going to college. And that is really exciting. I have been dreaming that I would reach this point in my life for about as long as I can remember. I'm excited to be on my own, to have autonomy and the ability to be the sole captain of my ship. I'm excited to make new friends, and learn new things about myself, and have new experiences. I'm excited to learn for no one and nothing but myself. I'm excited to hopefully finally start moving my life in the direction it is meant to go and to do something that actually makes a difference. I'm excited for everything that awaits me the next four years, but there is something else about this experience that it feels to me like no one talks about enough. I certainly hadn't considered it as seriously as I should have before reaching this point, and that is how to deal with the personal/emotional implications of entering this new chapter in our lives.
When you talk to all of your friends and proud relatives about college, it's always about the good parts. "What are you gonna major in?", "I bet you're excited to be away from your parents, huh?", "Don't party too hard..." etc. are the kinds of things heard most commonly. But no one, at least not the people I interact with, ever talk about the hard parts. The parts that almost make you wish you could spend another year in high school. For some people, it's just going to school again, but this time, away from your parents and having the opportunity to party and not make your bed, and stay up as late as you want whenever you feel like, and do reckless things just for the hell of it. For other people, it represents a huge shift in some major constants in their lives, which can be distressing and frankly shitty. For some people, leaving their parents, or siblings, or relatives is a really big deal, either for them or their family, because people depend on them. For some people, their closest friends from home are all going to the far corners of the Earth and going to college represents the deadline for their entire support system's disintegration. For some people, this is the first time that they are going to have to figure out how to deal with mental or physical impairments more or less by themselves. It is not, for everyone, nothing but this magical prospect of fun and opportunity.
As I get older and learn more about the world it seems to me that part of being an adult is learning how to steel yourself against prospective unpleasantness and do what needs to be done. Obviously, change is unavoidable and objectively good, but every time I actually face it; every time I actually stand in the crossroads and see the two different stages of my life stretched out in front of me and behind me, the only thing I can feel is grief. Grief for the good things in my life I'll be giving up; the good times, the essential people I won't be seeing and talking to every day anymore, which I think is the hardest part. Leaving my younger brother home alone with my parents, and not getting to laugh at how funny he is every day. Leaving my two best friends in the whole world, who are going to Buffalo and Edinburgh, Scotland, knowing that, although we will certainly remain close for the rest of our lives, our paths will diverge in unavoidable ways, and we will never be able to return to this time in our lives where we are able to spend so much time together. Entering the first truly adult stage of my life, and leaving the forgiveness and trauma of childhood in the past forever. I've had a particularly problematic childhood, and I would never wish I could go back to being a kid again, but life right now is really good. I don't know if this is something I should be ashamed to admit, given the glowing and frankly lucky future I have ahead of me, but I can't help but feel reluctance in charging forward into my future when I know I will have to give up all of these amazing things that I have, most of them probably forever.
I don't know if anybody else was feeling this way or relates to this at all, but I hope it helps someone.
To Mikey, I cannot wait to watch you grow up, help you navigate high school, and continue to be your support as we both get older. I'm going to miss you painfully and you better believe you'll be making some trips to Cambridge.
To Emma and Robert, you both are the light in my life, the reason anything ever makes sense at all. I have utter faith in your abilities to grab this world with both hands and make it into whatever you want. Writing this and thinking about not seeing you every day fills my eyes with tears, but I know our friendships will only get better as we get older. Meeting and knowing you both changed my life.
Omnes ad mortem,
Rosalyn 😶
When you talk to all of your friends and proud relatives about college, it's always about the good parts. "What are you gonna major in?", "I bet you're excited to be away from your parents, huh?", "Don't party too hard..." etc. are the kinds of things heard most commonly. But no one, at least not the people I interact with, ever talk about the hard parts. The parts that almost make you wish you could spend another year in high school. For some people, it's just going to school again, but this time, away from your parents and having the opportunity to party and not make your bed, and stay up as late as you want whenever you feel like, and do reckless things just for the hell of it. For other people, it represents a huge shift in some major constants in their lives, which can be distressing and frankly shitty. For some people, leaving their parents, or siblings, or relatives is a really big deal, either for them or their family, because people depend on them. For some people, their closest friends from home are all going to the far corners of the Earth and going to college represents the deadline for their entire support system's disintegration. For some people, this is the first time that they are going to have to figure out how to deal with mental or physical impairments more or less by themselves. It is not, for everyone, nothing but this magical prospect of fun and opportunity.
As I get older and learn more about the world it seems to me that part of being an adult is learning how to steel yourself against prospective unpleasantness and do what needs to be done. Obviously, change is unavoidable and objectively good, but every time I actually face it; every time I actually stand in the crossroads and see the two different stages of my life stretched out in front of me and behind me, the only thing I can feel is grief. Grief for the good things in my life I'll be giving up; the good times, the essential people I won't be seeing and talking to every day anymore, which I think is the hardest part. Leaving my younger brother home alone with my parents, and not getting to laugh at how funny he is every day. Leaving my two best friends in the whole world, who are going to Buffalo and Edinburgh, Scotland, knowing that, although we will certainly remain close for the rest of our lives, our paths will diverge in unavoidable ways, and we will never be able to return to this time in our lives where we are able to spend so much time together. Entering the first truly adult stage of my life, and leaving the forgiveness and trauma of childhood in the past forever. I've had a particularly problematic childhood, and I would never wish I could go back to being a kid again, but life right now is really good. I don't know if this is something I should be ashamed to admit, given the glowing and frankly lucky future I have ahead of me, but I can't help but feel reluctance in charging forward into my future when I know I will have to give up all of these amazing things that I have, most of them probably forever.
I don't know if anybody else was feeling this way or relates to this at all, but I hope it helps someone.
To Mikey, I cannot wait to watch you grow up, help you navigate high school, and continue to be your support as we both get older. I'm going to miss you painfully and you better believe you'll be making some trips to Cambridge.
To Emma and Robert, you both are the light in my life, the reason anything ever makes sense at all. I have utter faith in your abilities to grab this world with both hands and make it into whatever you want. Writing this and thinking about not seeing you every day fills my eyes with tears, but I know our friendships will only get better as we get older. Meeting and knowing you both changed my life.
Omnes ad mortem,
Rosalyn 😶
Woah
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