Grass is Green

kaeylnmichaels

Classes started yesterday at NC State, and I was jealous of every single student still living the college life.  They're getting to experience exciting things, discover new ways of thinking, and eat their weight in Howling Cow ice cream.

I went into one of my favorite coffee shops across the street from the University yesterday, and I felt as if I didn't belong any more.  It was heartbreaking.  Since ninety percent of the shop's clientele is students, everyone had out their newly bought books and were working furiously on freshly assigned projects.  All I was doing was drinking coffee with nothing but my purse by my side.

But it's the familiarity and the consistency of being a student I miss most, I suppose; knowing where and when to go and exactly how to get there made me feel important.  Having 20th Century Literature at 9:00 every Monday and reading a book for it every night was good for me.  I work well with a schedule.

Also, if I'm being honest with myself, I've been defining myself as a student for the past seventeen years of my life.  Though I never would have admitted to it, I was "student" and everything of my being was geared toward attending class, completing assignments on time, and making good grades.  What do I do now I no longer have the label of "student"?

I create my own label.

That thought is scary and, as of now, I'm shying away from the task of venturing into the world and creating a space for myself.  However, I know I will one day pick up the gauntlet and say, "I am Alli, hear me roar."

I don't want to live a life where grass is always greener on the other side.  The grass is green where I'm standing right now.  I just have to embrace where I am instead of looking into my nostalgic, overly romanticized past.

Love, Alli