There’s a reason I chose NYU. The open campus, the erratic city, the liberal atmosphere and the connection to some of the most powerful people in the most fascinating industries were integral to the kind of academic experience I wanted to have. It’s difficult for me now to even imagine the possibility of any other college experience, until I see it come to life on the social media of my friends from home.
You’re wearing an all white dress and you’re being initiated into a sorority, something we had never really had an interest in before. Everyday you post pictures of lovely gifts from your “big” and I can tell that your excitement isn’t contrived. You look so happy to be a part of this community. Other times, your face is covered in school colors and you are getting amped for a football match against your university’s rival. Despite your cheeks being flushed in that familiar way, I begin to feel a sense of disconnect. I can’t seem to reconcile the last image of you in my head with the image staring back at me on my phone.
Leaving home for college is a strange experience. The world suddenly gets divided into two parallel realities in which the pace and mindset of your old life and new life are completely different. There’s also a subtle fear that you’ll lose sight of the person you are in that specific moment in time. But that’s actually one of the best parts: allowing new experiences and conversations and relationships to help you grow. The experiences I had on the path to becoming an adult are some of the most critical and poignant. Personally, they have allowed me to become the person I’ve always wanted to be. If this is what my friend’s college experience has allowed them too, then how could I ever resent that?
You text me on my birthday and the message is concise, but nostalgic. You attach pictures of ourselves at our dorkiest and most naive. We say we love each other and I think it’s true. Of course, neither of us makes as much effort as we should to communicate more often. We’re really busy, I tell myself. But I’m worried that we simply don’t want to taint the perception that we have of one another with words from the mouth of this new, transformed person. Eight messages total. And then the conversation ends. It will be a month before we reach out again.
The acclimation from home life to new life takes stages, like a grieving process, as one comes to terms with losing the person that she and her friends were, and then coming to accept who they have all become. It signifies impending adulthood and new beginnings. It’s hard not to wonder if everyone goes through the period of feeling unrecognizable. Social media undoubtedly perpetuates this estrangement further, as everyone curates their personal highlight reel. Perception is a funny thing, isn’t it? I wonder if you look at me and feel that I have changed–that you don’t recognize who I’ve become.
It’s Winter Break, and I simultaneously can’t wait and dread the possibility of running into someone from high school. Eventually, I see old acquaintances at the bookstore or classmates at a party and we are all warm with reunion; drunk on it. My previous anxieties ease away for a couple weeks. When we finally meet up, it’s undeniably awkward. You have a boyfriend of four months, something I haven’t heard about. You invite me and some other friends back to your house for a movie and only then does the atmosphere switch. I walk through your front door and I am 17 again. It’s easy, like breathing; like no time has passed at all.
Change is written into the DNA of the human experience–it is indispensable and inextricable. All of the friends that I have watched change into new people continue to be as valuable to me as the new friends I have been so lucky to make. Change, in our environment and in ourselves, is a constant reminder of why life is so beautiful–it isn’t a stagnant force. Despite the fact that I, at times, experience somberness or anger at the fact that things aren’t the same, I can’t hold anyone accountable for taking part in the process of change. Especially if it has enabled them with the wisdom and strength to construct their own path.
Winter break ends and I am filled with a sense of relief and closure. The smile which I’ve seen on Instagram so many times is now a smile I have seen in real life. This confirmation helps me feel okay about the way our dynamic has changed. Whether friendships last forever or they don’t, I hope that the new friendships you make continue to grow and flourish. I hope that your new companions provide you with as much laughter and freedom and rebellion as you provided me with all those adolescent years. It’s time for me to let someone else enjoy the incredible person you are. It’s clear to me that I am missing out on moments of our friendship that are now impossible and will never be. But I’m hopeful that it won’t be this way forever. And if I knew anything other than the fact that we are having the best time of our lives, then I might regret it.
I will bring this newfound energy and confidence back home with me and show you. I hope you bring the newfound wisdom of your experiences and show me too.