Pause. Holy crap, I am old.
Ok, we’re back. Anyway, so, yes, it was my ten-year reunion. And it was…anticlimactic. In a really good way.
Let me explain. For months I’d been getting encouraging invitations and reminders from the wonderful classmates organizing the party, and one of my best friends, Xenia, had been mentioning it casually to try to get me to say I was going. And for months, I resisted all these invitations.
Why? Not to be high maintenance, but because I was really REALLY scared to go.
I attended the same school from first to twelfth grade, and for much of the latter part of that time period I was miserable. From about sixth grade on (the Awkward Growth Spurt and then the prolonged Recovery Period), I felt like a social leper, so lonely and isolated I could barely stand it. I’ve come to realize this is much more of a universal experience than I could have believed when I was going through it, and there are positives to not having high school be the best time of your life. For one, at least I know I didn’t peak then! And for another, the real friendships that were created and have lasted since high school are very precious to me. Finally, it was one of the best learning experiences I’ve ever had. I would not be who I am today if I didn’t have those memories to grow from.
Still, it was traumatic for a hyper-sensitive person like myself, and ever since I’ve had kind of a Pavlovian response to reminders of high school. Obviously I didn’t hold any real grudges against my classmates—no one was ever “out to get me” and it was certainly not their fault that my nature was so poorly equipped for the whole situation—but whenever I would run into someone who knew me back then, I would be swarmed with all those old feelings of inadequacy. So not pleasant. I went to the five-year-reunion and felt so shy and “lame” that the idea of repeating the experience was not exactly appealing.
But the convincers were…convincing. And as often happens when I get so worried about something, I got mad. At myself. I was being a ninny. I’m in a really good place in life. Sure, there are aspects of where I am that are not what I’d like, but overall, I’m probably the happiest I’ve ever been, and as a result I’m the most confident I’ve ever been as well. So what the heck was my problem? Why was I letting myself be scared of a friggin’ party?
Fine, I thought. I’ll go to the stupid party. Always so gracious, aren’t I? Lol.
So I’ve been getting myself mentally prepared. I’m so in my head all the time that if there’s something I’m struggling with I have my standard arsenal of coping mechanisms. I bought a new top I knew I’d feel good in. I came up with my little mantras of self-worth that I won’t be repeating here, thank you very much. I even made a “reunion playlist” on my Itunes filled with my favorite “you go girl” and “relax your neuroticness for just a second” songs (Indigo Girls feature strongly on these kind of playlists). It was like bootcamp for the ego.
Then the day itself arrived. And I got a little nervous as I started walking in. But then, once we were inside, something weird happened. Nothing. No panic, no waves of “I’m back in high school……waaaaahhhh….” I was totally calm. And I actually really enjoyed myself.
Somehow, the fact that these people were reminders of that bad time of my life didn’t matter at all. They were just people, not triggers. And for the record, they’re awesome people! Friendly and welcoming, all very accomplished and smart and really great to talk to. I’m sure they’ve always been that way and I was just too wrapped up in my personal narrative to notice. And now that I was no longer so trapped, I was able to enjoy the situation for what it was—an opportunity to see how great everyone has turned out.
So here’s my moral—yes, as you know, as a former Religion and Literature geek, I can’t rest until I find the meaning in things, but this one I think is valid. How many of our insecurities are self-created? Yes, there are actual events that I can point to that made me so unhappy back in the day, but the whole Ghost of High School Issues Past that’s been haunting me for years is entirely my own creation, a fact I can realize now that I’ve seen it be so easily vanquished. Obviously not everything can be so nicely solved, but sometimes what we find so defining and confining is actually completely in our control. Now I’m getting kind of self-help-y so I’ll stop, but this weekend reminded me to always be aware of whether my baggage is legitimate or just stuff that is solely the result of my own over-thinki-ness.
PS, thus the title of this post. Indigo Girls classic: “the hardest to learn was the least complicated.”
Anyway, so, yes, I survived my 10-year-reunion. I have to admit no one did anything regrettable. No dancing on the bar or falling off stools. I had one glass of wine too many (read: two glasses of wine—I think I need to drink more—there, two morals in one post!!) which was kind of dumb. When I have two glasses of wine, I tend to be ill-advisedly and completely unintentionally flirty. Xenia tells me I wasn’t bad, but I really hope I didn’t accidentally proposition someone—or embarrass someone! It’s happened before, but never with someone I’ve known since before puberty. Also, my verbal filter completely disappears—it’s never really all that good a filter ANYWAY but still—so if anyone reading this was embarrassed or weirded out, I apologize. But seriously, that was the only poor decision I saw! Apparently interesting things happened at the preparty the night before, but I missed that. Sigh.
Oh well. It was fun and I’m so glad I went ☺. Thanks to the people who organized and to my classmates for being wonderful. I wish you all well, and really liked seeing you. Take care!!!
Much love.
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