You spend four years chasing this dream, working hard and probably playing harder. You soak up every last memory you can, never missing a trip or happy hour. You do a multitude of now-pointless papers, prepare for endless interviews, and hope to God you can pass as a decent adult. And then all of that hard work ends with a piece of paper, the prized TCU Alumni car sticker and hopefully a full-time job. (let’s be real—any sort of job at that point will do). But then what? No one actually prepares you for what the real world is going to be… or better yet, what it won’t be. No one tells you that your once standard 1am bedtime would quickly be traded in for 9pm. No one EVER tells you what a hangover is like at 23. No one tells you that being an adult will be boring and kind of hard and mostly anti-climatic for a while.
There are some people
I know who excel at being a young professional. They have a really, really
snazzy job and more money than they know what to do with. They have a killer
group of colleagues that appreciate weekly happy hours and spend their weekends
off gallivanting at musical festivals #nochella. But for the rest of us, being
an adult is just a thing we would rather not do. Oh what we would give to be 20
and only have to worry about reading quizzes or finding a decent formal date.
But to be honest,
I haven’t been this happy in a really long time. They call college your “formative
years” and that cliché rings all too true when I really sit down and think
about who I was rolling up to Fort Worth five years ago. I recognize that girl,
but only in some aspects. I have changed in more ways than I could’ve imagined.
And while I give my collegiate years the credit they deserve for getting me to
where I am now, the real game changer has been the last 12 months.
It’s been one hell
of year. I worked so hard that summer following graduation; months of
nonstop working for two cool ladies and a neat company. And most of that was
because I thought that’s how this post-grad thing went down. You go to college
for a degree to get a good job and then you work, a lot. In high school, you
work really hard to get to pick the university of your choice, to determine the
kind of experience you want for those formative years. I picked TCU for a lot
of really good reasons and I wouldn’t trade that alumni car sticker for
anything. Hell, by December, I will have lived in the same house behind campus
for three years. I really do love my alma mater and this town. But August 1,
2014 took that world I was desperately clinging to and turned it upside down.
The three months
following the aneurysm, better known as Kimmy Jyon, sometimes doesn’t even feel
real. But then I remember braving HEB with my mom, my first real outing since getting
out of rehab (the kind for stroke patients, not Lindsay Lohan), hobbling behind
her with my cane, and it gets real very fast. Humor is really my strongest
defense mechanism and I’ve worked hard since August to keep things light when
it comes to my brain. No one wants to hear the tragic parts about that. Last
week, the oldest girl I used to nanny, Jordi, texted me as she was driving
through Dallas, passing my hospital of residence for most of August, and said “remember
that time you almost died?” My response was “remember that time I didn’t wash
my hair for three weeks?” It’s funnier that way. It’s easier to deal with that
way. But the reality is, August kicked my ass. So did September. So did
October, even as I made my way to that first football game of the season I could
physically attend. There are days even now that are more challenging than I would
like. But life has this incredibly funny way of humbling you, of bringing you
to a perspective that you never anticipated. And for that, I am Eternally
grateful. Don’t get me wrong—I’m totally grateful I didn’t die, too, but I do have
faith that had things gone south, it would’ve been a very fun funeral (party
theme, open bar, cover band, the whole shebang).
So yeah, I remember
a year ago. I remember the post-grad dream I thought I was supposed to achieve;
the life I thought I was meant to lead. Some days, I miss that dream. Some
days, I miss the path I was on and the person I was. Some days I sit and think
about how much easier things would be, had my brain kept its shit together, had
I stayed with Consuro at the pace I was progressing, had the “dream” panned
out. But if the last 23 years have taught me anything, hell- the last 12
months, it’s that “easy” does not an extraordinary life make. Everything that I
was last year, everything that I thought I wanted, was all really lovely and
fun and would’ve been good. But because of these last 12 months, I am a much
better version of myself. I made a huge career jump, one that was scary but fills
my soul daily with goodness. I have some of the most incredible friends, ones
who appreciate how embarrassing I am 99% of the time and like me because of
that. I am in love with a truly great man who never ceases to make me laugh, to
challenge me, and who brings a light to this world I didn’t know I was missing.
And just when I thought I couldn’t be any closer to my family, I am. They are
my life line, my heart and soul, my greatest blessing. San Antonio has never
felt so far away as it does now.
When shit hits the
fan, the people who step up without being asked, who show up unannounced, who
never give up on you, are the people you should go to the ends of the world
for. If nothing else had come out of the last year except those people, I would
still consider myself the most blessed.
To those who are a
year or more into this post-grad daze, I challenge you to think about what you’re
doing and who you are doing it with. I challenge you to look in the mirror
really hard and be sure you recognize and LOVE the person looking back at you.
To those newly graduated, I challenge you to look at this next chapter of your
life with fresh eyes and an open heart. I challenge you to not absent-mindedly
accept “the dream”, but to actively pursue a fulfilling life. The most incredible thing about this life is that it is
capable of changing on a dime. It most likely will flip a switch on you and
that’s when who you are truly meant to be will surface. It may be a choice and it
may not be. But one day, it will all be clear and that’s your moment to relish
in, to seize.
I often say that I
really shouldn’t be left to my own devices. When I’m alone, there’s no telling
the kind of overanalyzing I can produce. But every once in a while, it’s good
to be alone, to overanalyze and it be sure that you are still growing. Just
because the time spent in college is the coined “formative years” does not mean
the rest of your life is meant for standing still. Extraordinary lives are
possible if you let go of what you think it should look like. I beg you to keep
growing, keep exploring, keep loving and hoping and fighting for yourself. No
one is making you recycle those Miller Lite cans, but at least try not to be
wasteful when it comes to your Earthly life.
YOLO, my friends, YOLO.
