May 1, 2001. If I remember correctly, this was the week I would find out that my very first boyfriend, or almost a year, was cheating on me.
When I wrote down that date, I really was curious about where I was. I looked at it, calculated years in my head and realized when it was. I had no idea that date was in close proximity to such a large event in my life. I’m sure it sounds crazy to think that something that happened when I was barely 16 had such a big impact on my life now. The big picture doesn’t say much, but it was from that week forward that I started growing up. My life hadn’t even began yet and already I felt like it was over. It’s scary to think about how betrayed, angry, hurt, and alone I felt, and I had no idea what was to come. The best years of my life were yet to come, and still are. There was so much hope back then. It feels like it faded so quickly but really it’s been a very slow process.
It’s hard to believe I’m a “grown up” now. It amazes me every once in a while that I own a dishwasher or car, and am allowed to go wherever I want, whenever I want in my car. Most of the time I get that feeling I had when I took my dad’s truck out on the road for the first time by myself. Looking over in the passenger seat and realizing I was on my own from now on. Yes I still lived at home and had to graduate high school, but life would never be the same again. I miss that day. I miss that time of being able to make some choices on my own while still having very little responsibility. That was April 11, 2002, just a few days before my 17th birthday.
June 2003 was when I graduated high school. And that August was when I moved to NC. I was so unprepared. It’s hard to believe I survived that and made it out as such a different person. It seems that since then, it’s been mistake after mistake after mistake with a whole lot of “best times of my life” sprinkled in there. I’m at the point I never wanted to be at, the point at which I look back and regret. I can’t fool myself anymore. I can’t trick myself by saying, “I regret nothing because if I had chosen a different path I wouldn’t be where I am now”, and aside from a few amazing parts of my current life, I don’t want to be here. I want to go back and do things differently. I never faced this before because I know this will never do any good. Nothing can be done, but maybe it will do something. So here it goes…
If I could do things over in high school, I would…
- Learn a lot more about myself as early as I could.
- Not have such serious relationships.
- Listen to my mom more and trust her.
- Study harder.
- Make better friends.
- Spend more time with my gramma.
- Try out for the volleyball team and LOVE it (maybe to go on to college and play).
- Open my eyes and ears more because I had a lot to learn.
- Save most of my money from work and not touch it!
- Apply to colleges in NYC no matter what I thought I could or couldn’t afford.
If I could do things over in college, I would…
- Join a club or (gasp!) maybe even a sorority (solely to meet new people!).
- Not move to Raleigh after freshman year.
- Enjoy the time to myself.
- Study harder.
- Never open a line of credit.
It’s amazing to me to think of how many things would be different if I had done even just one or two of those things. Would I have ever gotten laid off? Would I be more financially secure? This is dangerous territory, I know. But I can’t help but feel like I’m making up for it all now, like I’m cleaning up a never ending mess. You know how they say that after a break-up, it takes you half the time you were together to fully recover? I wonder if that’s true with the relationship you have with yourself. If so, I’m sure it’s more like it will take twice the time to recover. That seems about right. If college was four years, it will take you eight years to get all your junk straightened out before you feel like your head is above water. That being the case, I have another four years to go, meaning I’ll be 30. Hmm. I think I’m on to something.
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*Enjoy yourself – that’s what your 20s are for. Your 30s are to learn the lessons. And your 40s are to pay for the drinks.* – Carrie Bradshaw
