scribblechic

My high school reunion is around the corner, I am navigating old memories and new doubts. Twenty years later it seems as though time stood still, slumbering insecurities have stirred new insights into pieces of my past.

Returning psychologically to a place in time littered with painful memories has highlighted old wounds. The young girl that hid from sadness behind individual endeavors, love stories, and moments of rebellion is cautious to revisit the past. The woman I have become feels compelled to face these truths with the same open mind and strength I ask my children to exercise in moments of uncertainty.

I keep returning to the uncomfortable emotions looking for direction. An emptiness and detachment from my peers’ shared experiences conflicts with deeply entangled emotions to individuals, relationships fragmented but infinitely imbedded in my life story. In contrast to my children’s experiences, I did not grow up in one neighborhood. Watching my children create friendships and gather memories I have become acutely aware of the pricelessness of old friends and the richness of shared history.

Looking ahead to the coming year and the opportunity to revisit a piece of my past I am trying to welcome doubts alongside nostalgia, permitting myself a place for growth; lending myself forgiveness and love for old mistakes and missed opportunities while standing firmly and gratefully in the present.