I remember being told that my high school years were not going to be the best years of my life, because my best years would come in university. I was expectant. I had such high expectations for university—I envisioned finding my bridesmaids on campus. I mean, that’s what I was being told would happen—so why not think it?
Anyway, my undergrad came and went and I am not only bridesmaid-less, but I’m still waiting for those best years to happen. It’s not that I didn’t have good years in university, rather, I think what happened was that I wanted them too much. I wanted things that I couldn’t control without working on the things I could control—my insecurities. And so, no matter how much effort I put into building genuine friendships, somehow they would only end up being acquaintances.
But that’s okay.
As an extrovert, I’m classified as someone who has this huge group of friends that I may or may not be close with. I always felt pressure to have a group of friends, or at least to give that appearance. When that wasn’t really my reality in university, I was crushed. It led to me doing a lot of digging and internal reflection.
What I realized blew me away. I realized that you reap what you sow. I realized that the years are what you make of them, no matter what stage of life you find yourself in in. I realized the importance of accepting who you are, in all its pain and glory, or else no one will. I realized nothing is done by force, and if it is…it’s not worth it.
The old proverb is true: if the young only knew, if the old only could.
But I know now, and I’m not old or dead yet thankfully, so I’m going to take this knowledge and make sure each day is seized. When I need to rest, I’ll rest. If I need to be alone, I’ll savour it. And if I’m surrounded by a group of friends that I may or may not be close to, I’ll make sure I’m adding to their lives in some way.