After almost eight years of moving around abroad in China and Australia, I learned quickly that stability (or what I thought was stability) was not in store for me. I learned to make friends with an expiration date, to not get too attached, and to slow down if I was getting too comfortable. I learned early on that life was neither certain nor stagnant. I learned that “home” was subjective. That where I was “from” would mean something different for me.
However, I went to boarding school to avoid moving locations in between my high school years. College would do the same for me.
You would think, if anything, I would get used to it by now.
But like nothing in my life, I’m not used to it. And to be honest, I don’t know if I will get used to it. Or, rather, if it’s something to necessarily get used to.
Life is full of surprises and changes, the biggest fears of mine for as long as I can remember.
I am a senior in college, and the nearest change for me is graduating, moving (or not moving), and thus finding and shaping my role in my next community.
Life is said to be full of surprises and changes that will shape who you are. But will these moments of change always benefit me and my self-awareness?
Looking back, I would not change any of it, because they in turn, the largest changes in my life have made me who I am. But also, I haven’t known any different.
Perhaps I approach the concept of life with worry is because I feel things so strongly. As a (depressed) person, I have realized my spectrum of emotion is very wide. Allowing me to feel extreme excitement and mania, while costing me moments of complete disregard for myself and my existence. As Crissle West, from my favorite podcast The Read, wrote “I always had with me a looming and powerful presence of self-doubt and insecurity. I still struggle with it on most days, and I have to keep on my toes to keep it at bay. It tempts me with comfort, laziness, short-term pleasures. It attacks me in the all the right places, because it knows my weaknesses.” Because of this, change is difficult. Keeping in touch with people after leaving is tough, especially if you’re a person who builds strong relationships through touch and immediate closeness.
Will the world feel smaller once I am in the real part of it? Will complete autonomy of my life allow me to formulate a life as stagnant as I dream of? Do I lack future, or forward thinking?
I know life is going to happen, and I will navigate it in some way, but how do I know I’ll be going in the right direction?
I need to realize that perfect isn’t.
Perhaps the worst case scenario is to have never known.