my thoughts exactly, old school style, number two

Continuing in the same vein as yesterday, I'm taking advantage of a little blog-break, but have set up some posts to fill the time. Check yesterday's post for the whole back story if you'd like, but the short-form version is that the following piece is an old column I wrote for my college newspaper. I'm posting it as it appeared in Elmira College's The Octagon on Tuesday, October 31, 1995.

I have come to the conclusion that it is definite: saying goodbye sucks. This has become a recurring theme in my life as of late, it seems, and I realize that I am not enjoying it in the least. Let me explain a bit.

It seems that I have come to a point of transition in my life. (To save you much boredom, I won't go into the gory details of my life too extensively, but do prepare yourself for a personal based column. Oh wait, you're probably used to that by now!) Okay, back to me. I'm finding myself at a crossroads in life, because the future is looming ahead, and for the first time in my life, I do not have a clear view of what even the immediate future will look like. I plan on starting my life separate from my parents in that I am not returning to live at home again, and this thought scares the living crap out of me. My plans are exactly what I want, but at the same time I feel nervous about knowing I don't have that safety in my future. It's nice to think that your home awaits you after a long nine months away at college, and as much as people may complain about living there, I think we all feel that bit of security in our hearts when we think about it.

The prospect of starting a new chapter in my life has me excited, thrilled, and weeping like a baby. At times I feel like I could conquer the world, that I am Miss Maturity, and then those reality checks come knocking at my door that make want to curl up on to my mother's lap and suck my thumb. I would hate to think that I am the only one who has these self-doubting moments, so please reassure me that I am not alone. I know that I am not, because I have heard others speak this way, if just hinting at it. It all comes down to this-- growing up is scary, very scary.

Childhood for many, hopefully, was a pleasant experience, at least overall. I think it's the innocence and carefreeness (is that a word?!) of it all. Now, I know, many people had responsibilities and tough childhoods, but I'm sure everyone can think back to at least one time when they were completely free, able to do what they wanted, without looking at their watches and having deadlines looming in their heads, or people demanding things from every direction. This is childhood, and this is secure. This what I'm, what we're, leaving behind in order to take on or start our "lives," as if we weren't living before.

We need to remember our security blankets, whether they were our parents or other people, material things, or parts of ourselves that are revealed when needed, as we branch out into new territory. But I still think we need to keep some of that child in us to help us through. I'll tell you what, I'll hold your hand, if you'll hold mine.

Oh dear. A week shy of my 20th birthday, and the world weighed on my shoulders, huh? It's hard not to feel a little condescending, even toward my own younger self, when I think about those "deadlines" and "people demanding things" of that time. I had no idea about the ways life would only get more stressful and demanding in the years to come. But, that's not being completely understanding, for I remember just how genuinely I felt weighed down sometimes. Who knows how I'll feel if I get to look back on my blog of today fifteen years from now.


Feeling simultaneously nostalgic and curious about the future,