This is the year of graduation for my family.
My oldest niece graduated from middle school.
Two of my nieces and one of my nephews graduated from kindergarten.
Another of my nephews graduated from preschool.
I was able to be present at three of their ceremonies, and I sat in awe, of the young woman Payton has become, of the still-little boys growing a smidge bigger every time one of us blinks.
I reflected on the time that had passed since I held each of them in my arms shortly after they were born. I was a junior in high school when Payton made me an aunt. Adam, Ella, and Kiera were born the year I got married. Miles the year Mark and I moved into our second apartment.
That’s when I realized we never stop being graduates, no matter how long it’s been since we were students.
By definition, the word “graduate” means “a person who has successfully completed a course of study or training, especially a person awarded an academic degree.”
But especially is not the same as exclusively.
I may not have earned a diploma in the last 9 years, but I would absolutely go as far as to say that I have successfully completed some life studies. As adults - as humans - we are constantly learning lessons and moving on from one chapter to the next.
For example, professionally, I graduated from an intern to a staff writer, to an editor, to becoming my own boss. Romantically, I graduated from girlfriend, to fiance, to wife. I’ve put a name to my mental health struggles and graduated from denial to acceptance to understanding.
There’s another shift happening in my life. I don’t know exactly what it is yet, but I can feel it. A new chapter coming. A chapter ending. There have been signs. I just haven’t been able to pinpoint what, exactly, is changing.
I do, however, know that I welcome it.
I don’t remember my elementary school graduation. I don’t even remember the party afterward. If I had to guess, I would guess I was sad. I loved that school and I loved my teachers. It had been my second home, after all.
I cried when I graduated middle school. Not because I enjoyed it. I actually hated it. I cried because I was terrified of high school. Mostly of getting lost in the gigantic building. (I never got lost. Not once.)
When I graduated high school, I was thrilled. I loved the learning aspect of school. I loved my classes. I loved the extracurriculars.
I was a joiner.
I did volleyball, cheerleading, choir, and theater. I even volunteered in the counselor’s office during lunch.
But I hated the drama, and there was a lot of it. I made a lot of toxic friendships and they wore me down. I was battling body image dysmorphia. I was naive and trusted way too easily.
I couldn’t wait to leave that place and start fresh in college.
Of course, college came with its own set of challenges. Things I wish didn’t happen. Things I wish I could erase.
But, overall, I loved college.
I loved and still love that school. It’s where I started to understand myself better. It’s where I met the love of my life. It’s where I realized that there were people out there who were as deeply passionate about words and literature as I was.
I didn’t want to leave.
It was a chapter I was reluctant to leave behind.
Part of being a graduate, I’ve come to realize - part of moving on to the next stage of life - is letting go. In some instances, you’re ready to drop the rope. In others, you hold on until your fingers blister from your grip. Sometimes how you feel falls somewhere in the middle. You’re not against the change, but you know you’ll miss how things were before.
This is something you don’t realize as a kid or teenager. Heck, it’s not something I even realized as an early adult.
My point is, change happens.
Growth happens.
One day you’re five, the next day you’re fifteen, and the next you’re 30. It’s not always easy. Sometimes, it’s everything you ever wanted. But it always comes with knowledge, a lesson learned.
So congratulations to all of the graduates - those graduating from a grade or school, or a time of life. I’m sending you love and wishing you luck.
💗
Great observations!