Where Has 10 Years Gone?

Note: I wrote this back in October, but hadn't gotten around to posting it yet when everything happened with my mom. So I'm getting around to it now. I was hoping to include a few pics, but oh well.

For the most part, I was really looking forward to my high school reunion. I didn't love high school - it wasn't "the glory days" - but I didn't hate it either. I made some good friends, I went to Young Life and found the Lord, I had a lot of good times, I had success. Generally speaking, it was a great jumping off point into adulthood. But by the same token, after graduation I only saw a handful of people from high school, and that was mostly because they too went to Western. By my junior year of college, I wasn't keeping up with a single person from my alma mater.

I like to think I had a relatively good self-esteem for the typical high school student, but the reality is, I was a victim to the curse of adolescence: I was a slave to what others thought of me (or more accurately, what I thought others thought of me). As a result I was hesitant to really be myself. Instead I was constantly on the prowl for social cues and non-verbal indicators that might point me in the direction of what I ought to be. Sad, isn't it? Who wants to live life like that? But of course, I didn't see it then.

From my vantage point now, I can see that in reality the only thing that separated me from the "popular kids" or the kids I thought had it all together, was confidence. Those kids had missed the memo that you were supposed to be concerned about what everyone thought of you and instead just did their own thing. Right or wrong, they did it. And in turn, we respected them for it, deemed them popular for it, and tried to figure the mystery out for ourselves. Truly the social culture of high school is a fascinating phenomenon to me. I wonder if anyone has done any studies on it....

But now I'm straying from my point, which is to say that, since high school I had grown into a quiet confidence of my own and was now comfortable in my own skin and proud of the young woman I had developed into. So needless to say, when I first received the invitation to the reunion, I immediately uttered a small yelp of fear and my stomach quivered and jumped up into my throat the same way it does when I pass a cop and I'm 5 miles over the limit. (It's funny how the smallest things can undo 10 years of emotional growth in a heartbeat isn't it?) But then I took a deep breath, reminded myself that I was fresh off one of the best experiences of my life (8 week Italy sojourn) and that I liked who I was. I had nothing to be afraid of.

Fortunately they give you months and months of advanced warning for these things, so I put that time to good use losing five pounds and reminding myself that I'm proud of who I've become...even if I am jobless, boyfriendless, live at home and feel a little bit like Romy and Michele. I'll just tell everyone I invented Post-Its. It'll be fine.

Truthfully, I was a bit nervous as the date approached, but fortunately I had recently figured out what I'll be doing with the rest of my life and that gave me an enormous amount of peace. I really didn't care that "on paper" I sort of sounded like a loser. I had gained confidence and maturity (and really cute hair) in the last ten years and I was excited to share it with friends I hadn't seen in a decade. Not to mention, I was terribly curious about what ten years had done to them.

Way back when, on the night of my graduation, I had my first glimpse of what I can only call liberation from the high school mind-set. For the first time I stopped thinking about people's "reputation" and just hung out with people just because. I have no idea why I did that, but I can't tell you how many people I "met" that night and how I wished I had spent time with them over the last three years. Ahh, my first glimpse of regret. It was precisely because of this freedom and consequent regret that, despite any short-lived moments of panic, I was firmly committed to attending my ten year reunion.

As the day arrived, I was mostly calm yet excited, with only fleeting moments of hysteria peppered in. Whenever I felt one of those sneaking up on me, I reassured myself by coming up with false facts about myself I could distribute (should the need arise) not unlike John Cusack's character in Gross Pointe Blank. That seemed to do the trick.

Really, the hardest part of the whole night was walking all alone into an enormous room of familiar strangers. I checked in at the desk, received a name-tag with my embarrassing senior photo in color (thanks for that extra special touch Dave), and for the briefest moment, considered turning directly around and running away. I squelched my flight instinct though, stuck my chin out, and told myself the secret is to appear confident even if I don't feel it. Then I proceeded directly to the bar. If I was going to loiter in a room of former classmates, I was going to do it with a drink in my hand and appearing cool, calm, and collected, dammit!

Moments later, whiskey sour in hand, my long-time friend (and the person I was probably most excited to "re-union" with) Dave Andresen crossed the room and gave me a great big hug. Suddenly, the jitters were gone and I was glad I came. And it was pretty much smooth sailing from there on out.

For the most part, people were exactly the same. Despite growing up, maturing, and becoming adults, people still are who they are. Sarcasm may have morphed into cynicism or confidence into contentedness or misplaced self-doubt into bravado, but the core person is the same. It was simultaneously oddly comforting and off-putting. Perhaps I hadn't changed as much as I thought I had...Perhaps it was simply that I decided to like that person rather than loathe her.

The design of the evening was pretty much drinks, dinner, and socializing. I made an effort to talk with as many people as possible, but I know I only made it around to about half the people there (and I think we had just over a hundred). It was fun to catch up with people I had been friends with and to catch a greater glimpse of the people I'd barely gotten to know. I was shocked to learn I had made an impression on others, much in the way they had left their fingerprint on my memories. I had always figured I had slipped into and out of other's lives without much of an impact, but it wasn't so. I was surprised to see people I had gone to school with since first grade and that I hadn't even realized were a part of my graduating class. I guess you get so used to seeing a person every day of your life, for twelve years, that they cease to distinguish themselves from the scenery of your life. I also met people I had absolutely no recollection of, nor did they have any of me (now, that was weird).

All in all, it was a really, really good night. It was all I could've wanted in a reunion and I was thankful I went. My only regret was that more familiar faces hadn't been there. There were plenty of others I really would've liked to catch up with. I'm not sure if their lack of attendance was the result of a schedule-conflict, or speaks to more of a psychological conflict...Either way, in my opinion, they missed out. I walked out of there feeling exhausted, happy, with my curiosity satiated, and wearing someone else's coat*. I guess that's just how it works when you're the last to leave.

*I had a brief Chili Palmer moment when I realized the last coat hanging on the rack wasn't mine, but then I found my car keys in my purse. Which is probably for the best anyway. I wouldn't have liked to start a war over a coat and end up chasing a dry-cleaner named Leo to LA and in the mean time get involved with some shady guys in the movie producing business. I mean, not unless it was like, my favorite coat or something.