My Fenway Game Epiphany

As did many Crusaders, I flocked to Boston on a chilly Saturday afternoon to watch the Holy Cross football team in their iconic matchup against Georgetown at Fenway Park. 

Bundled in our denim and boots, my friends and I stopped at the iconic Game On! sports bar and restaurant before kickoff. We were surrounded by hordes of fellow students and alumni-the entire neighborhood was truly a sea of purple, with the occasional Hoyas scarf. 

I bumped into so many former students and family friends who had attended Holy Cross, and it was so pleasant to see people who were my role models my freshman and sophomore years returning to cheer on their alma mater. 

Inside the ballpark, I surely had a great time cheering on our team as they solidly whooped Georgetown. However, one of my most poignant moments from this day was not necessarily about touchdowns or field goals.

Admittedly, I’ve been having a hard time here at Holy Cross this semester. Relationship changes as well as beginning eating disorder treatment have made this fall a bit of a rocky road. I’ve been teetering between a bit of a mental haze and taking it a little bit too far when going out, and I’ve felt pretty lost. 

But yesterday, I was standing in line to get some chicken fingers and fries at Fenway-something I was already pretty proud of myself for allowing myself to eat. I was very tired, and very hungry, and for the first time in a long time, I was going to listen to my body and let myself get something to eat immediately. A man came up behind me in line, jostling me in the process, nearly causing me to drop my things. 

“Do you mind if I cut you in line?”, he asked. 

Shivering in the wind tunnel that is the Fenway corridors, I paused for a moment before answering. I smiled very warmly back at him and said, gently, “Yes, I do mind”. I turned back to face front in line, hearing a scoff and a “Wow, welcome to Boston”. 

This may seem like a trivial interaction, but for me, it was a powerful moment. For a very long time, I have been operating under a set of parameters I’ve set for myself about what I can and can’t do. These rules are impression management measures, because I’ve always been so concerned with pleasing others. I’ve told myself, if only I hit all of these expectations and requirements that I think people need me to reach, I’ll be happy. I’ll have better friendships, better romantic relationships, and be blissful, but this hasn’t been the case. Hinging my happiness on these variables that I really can’t control has not done me any favors. 

The Emily of the past few months, who has been desperately trying to keep things from further “falling apart”, would likely have said “Yes, go right ahead” to that fellow fan at Fenway. But I felt some spark in me at that moment-I wanted to choose myself, even if it meant that stranger finding me rude.

So, over something so silly as some chicken fingers and fries, I chose myself. 

I felt a tiny burst of pride in my chest as I smiled to myself in line. 

Being happy isn’t about adding more, or trying to insert more variables to cover up who you really are-it’s about letting go. Releasing the weight of responsibility of how others perceive you, and just choosing you, is slowly helping me rebuild a life that I’m proud of. It’s a life undefined by how many friends I have, my relationship status, or other’s impressions of me. It is defined by the joy I let myself experience, unapologetically, even if that joy is found in waiting a minute less for some overpriced fried food.

• #happiness
• #life
• #relationships