Welcome to the big time

I recently attended my grade school reunion.  My friend and I went to a small Catholic school from first through eighth grade. We grew up together, but seeing the faces of friends I knew during the formative years of my life was quite amazing.

For the most part, we were still the same.  Some of my friends have completed their degrees and are now nurses, teachers and interns. 

Some of our classmates have changed their career paths and gone back to school.  Some have moved up the career ladder without degrees, and some, like me, are on a slow but steady journey to finding themselves.

All of us have had our own unique setbacks and progressions. 

Some people have degrees but are still living at home with their parents.  Some have moved out and are moving up the corporate ladder but without having gone to college.  And some are still in school and living at home, but they drive nice cars and wear designer clothes.

What I came away with is the insight that success is accomplished in one’s own time.
We once equated maturity with age and grade level.  That may have been true 10 years ago, but now that I’m in my mid-twenties, I see that everyone grows up at their own pace.

After high school, it is up to the individual to finish the maturation process.  Once the adults in our lives loosen the reins, we become the masters of our destinies.

For me, this newfound freedom was a path to disaster.  Having been in AP classes, editor of the yearbook staff, and graduating with honors, I was scholastically disciplined. 

All this changed, however, when I walked onto a college campus and saw no gates, no padlocks, and no adults acting like prison wardens.

And then I had a disturbing thought: I don’t have to be there if I don’t want to be.
I sporadically showed up to my classes.  Eventually, I found myself going only part-time.  I got a job and tried to balance school, work and an overflowing social calendar.  I was in love with what I thought was “the college life,” which, to me translated into “high school with ashtrays.”

By the time I was 21, I had dropped out, and then I realized that I had made a mistake.  I attempted to discipline myself and get back into a steady school schedule, but by this time I had lost a lot of time.

My high school peers were turning 22 and preparing for graduation.  Technically I was still a freshman.  It bothered me that my friends were graduating before me, but I brushed it off.  I was, after all, still going to school, and knew that I’d get my own degree soon enough.

First to graduate with college degrees were the smart kids, my peers from honors and AP classes.  Then the average student stepped into the stage.  After that it was younger classmates. Soon, I didn’t know where I belonged.  I felt like I was standing still, and everyone else was racing by me.

At the time, my circle of friends  had all tried to go to college straight out of high school, but soon realized it wasn’t for us.  We were climbing the retail ladder, getting promotions, buying luxury cars, and accepting invitations to hot parties.

It seemed that my life couldn’t be any better until I received word that B.A.’s were now getting their M.A.’s.

The thought that I want where I should be has been in the back of my mind for quite some time.  At some point you have to stop and ask yourself:  “Where am I going?”
Although my situation seems bleak, I have the comfort of knowing that I am not alone.

I like to think that life is like a freeway. Some drivers prefer the fast lane, stepping hard on the gas and speeding to their destinations.  But speeding doesn’t shorten the journey, and the driver runs the risk of an accident. 

I used to be one of those speeding drivers until I hit a bump in the road. Now, I take the center lane in life:  cautious, careful, and enjoying the ride.

I’m in no rush to get where I need to go.  I’m still studying the road map and deciding on my destination. I know that, in time, I’ll get there.