My apologies again, but this won't be a particularly witty or insightful post. But to continue with the ongoing theme of exploring the future, I thought I would share what it means to be a townie who's finally leaving the town.
For one thing, it doesn't feel real. For the past 9 months, I've relied so heavily on the anxiety of not knowing what to do come graduation, of scurrying around making plans, I almost don't know what to do now that I have a concrete plan. Of course there are always steps to take--such as securing a roommate and a car, or figuring out what it means to live in Colorado--but these are relatively minor steps, ones that contain relatively easy solutions.
It's terrifying. It's terrifying to realize that real growth comes from real discomfort, and I may spend my time at CSU wondering how the hell I thought I was a person for the past 22 years. It's terrifying to realize that I've had it pretty damn good since day one, and that jumping into the "real world" may not be as smooth as a transition as those who have already experienced more hardship than I have. Yet at the same time, it's terrifying to realize that those comforts I've come to know so well won't be as readily accessible.
What's getting me through this is that while it's petrifying to consider moving, it's unbearable to think of what may happen if I stay the same.
As someone whose memories, are, for the most part, collectively accumulated in one area, it can become overwhelming to live in a town that's colored by trivial heartbreaks, adolescent stupidity, and pure nostalgia. I spend a lot of time either remembering or avoiding--a favorite café becomes tainted by a bad series of dates. A yoga studio becomes a museum of self-esteem issues. A grade school becomes a reminder of what is lost.
I didn't stop to consider how these associations weighed on me until there was an end point, a finish line.
While my travel plans are just starting to blur the line between the hypothetical and the real, I can already understand how distance lends clarity. I am able to walk through this town with a sense of compassion for who I was--a much simpler accomplishment than maintaining compassion for who I am, but a start.
I can now see State College as a foundation for the future, rather than a space that limits me, that confines me to the experiences and categories that I've outgrown.
