I'm sitting here, on the eve of my last finals, reflecting on what I've lost and gained. It's funny, I feel like in a lot of ways I've done a full 360. Two years ago, I wouldn't have recognized "me," my ideals and my direction; yet today, I'm wearing the same clothes I am when I was 16. I have the same goals, I have the same drive and the same sense of "oh shit, now what?" I truly believe that if I had lost that sense of self permanently, I'd be a lot worse off now.
When I first came here, I was 17. I thought I knew a lot more than I did, an impression I suspect I'll always have about myself. I was set to be done as fast as I could, or barring that, just have fun and figure shit out later. Later turned out to be longer than I expected, and having fun and finding myself took a lot of time. I turned in to someone I'm still not sure I identify with, but I had to do it, I had to see what that was like. I cut off all my hair, I woke up most mornings believing I couldn't function without make-up, and I truly believed I was no greater than the sum of my parts. Then one day, I put on an old Aquabats shirt, took off the make-up, and stopped giving a shit. I moved to Tucson, and learned how self-sufficient I am. And I believe that each and every one of those events, every one of those things I did was important. Each one has brought me to here and now, and I wouldn't change that for the world.
And it's like I'm back in high school again. The same Sambas, the same blue jeans, the same band shirts and dyed black hair. And that same feeling of not wanting to let go while still looking forward to what's next. But now I actually think I know where I want to be, and what I want to do. Losing the identity of "student," even if only temporarily, is terrifying, but it's for a greater goal. It's just that this goal is more permanent, more binding. Deciding where to go to graduate school and how to approach that education is going to be one of the hardest I'll ever have to make. But I know now I have the ability to, and the strength of my own judgement. And I suspect that my 17 year-old self, in her defiant ways, always knew that. It just took me 5 years, a few haircuts, a lot of wardrobe changes and some self-discovery to remember that.