Twenty Years

Moving our family of five to a different state has made me sentimental. Realizing I've been out of high school for twenty years has made me reflective. And these have converged into all kinds of thoughts rolling around.These are some of them.


Twenty years since high school. After twenty years, delicate lines have snuck up at the corners of my eyes, reminding me that this face is not exactly the same one I wore then. The scale reminds me that this is not the same body I fumbled through high school in. There are three little boys who follow me around asking for food and snuggles who remind me I am a (mostly) responsible adult who doesn’t get to make decisions based solely on my plans and desires. I have a husband who makes me realize that all my teen worries about being lonely or missing love were completely unfounded. The minivan sitting out front makes my teenage self groan in angsty protest and demand to know where the powder blue Nissan Pulsar went (God, I loved that car. T-tops!). There are a surprising number of things telling me that I am not the same girl I was in high school.


But then I dug out my yearbooks. I remember being apprehensive in high school but pretty comfortable socially. I had fun friends and only the requisite amount of high school drama. I remember riding around on Saturday nights in a friend’s little Civic blasting Nine Inch Nails, belting out “I wanna vacuum like an animal" (that still cracks me up). I went to coffee shops with friends (although I hadn’t developed a taste for actual coffee yet) where we sat around for hours talking and laughing. There were bonfires at the beach, unspoken/unrequited crushes, notes passed in class, and a blissful ignorance of what grown-up life was all about. And those yearbooks reminded me that I was also wonderfully goofy, getting up on stage for the school Lip Sync (more than once!), Talent Show (although I still wish I could take that one back), a play, even a musical! What was I thinking, exposing myself to an audience like that? How did I start on that side of the daring/anxiety equation and end up on the other?


Recently, Dave hung out with some college buddies when one of The Guys was in town. When I asked him how everyone was, he said, “We’re all exactly the same, just a little more serious.”

I thought that was perfect.

I am still that slightly apprehensive, sometimes unexpectedly bold girl, just a little more serious. I can still be goofy, even if I sometimes need reminders from my kids or a little wine. I still have the best of friends (some are even from high school) and there are days when I'm not quite sure of my place in the world. So, in spite of the mirror, scale, kids, or responsibilities I’ve collected over the years, I’m not all that different now. And all of this is why I’m looking forward to the reunion. (I know, it’s weird. But my girlfriend Deborah has a t-shirt slogan and everything. There’s no going back now.) A bunch of us can get together and momentarily put aside our grown-up burdens and remember our slightly awkward teenage selves and the silly way we were. And then we can be a little awkward and silly all over again.