What's Past is Prologue

About a two weeks ago, I asked my mother to find my Georgetown diploma and transcript -- I needed it for some job-related paperwork. No, I can't explain why my mother had my diploma, but I've got it back now. I digress...

Mother, in her quest to find my most expensive piece of paper, stumbled upon some memorabilia from my childhood. Class pictures, notes traded between friends, letters that crisscrossed country and the Pacific just to keep me update to date with the latest Alamo drama.

And then I found things that stirred memories I want to forget; memories that make me cringe in disgust and shame and sadness; memories of a time when all I did was cry and cry for days on end, when the mere thought of going to school gave me ulcers and made me physically sick. All dredged up now, I tried to make sense of what happened, to make connections between the person I was and the person I am today.

But why even begin to reflect on such a thing? It's old news, right? Well, my 10-year high school reunion is coming up -- one of the things I won't think about is how old I feel ;) -- and it's an event that I've both dreaded and looked forward to for a while. I'll be pretty candid and say I think I've kept in touch with all of the people with which I wanted to remain friends, and most people I know say the same whenever you talk about high school reunion. Like me, however, those same people relished the opportunity to attend their college reunions. Why? What makes one reunion different from the other?

It's about the people we were then and the people we are now. My college experience was a profound change agent that saw me move from being a conservative Republican to a liberal Democrat; from cantankerous chica with no qualms about crossing words with someone who dared to shoot me a funky glance or couldn't talk about me to my face to a contemplative chicky who has a better understanding about the psychology and inner workings of people, particularly those of us who live in girl world; and from a girl struggling with identity issues to a woman comfortable in her unique skin. Some things haven't changed: I'm still stubborn as a mule. Lord knows that I will always have diva moments. Though I'm better at keeping my emotions in check, I still cry crocodile tears during moments both happy and sad and when my anger and frustration boils over.

But I'm more patient, more open minded, and more content with myself and my place in the world around me, among other things. Huge change from ten years ago, and I think the real reason I'm feeling dread about going to the reunion -- today me wouldn't really like the me of yesteryear. That's the me those high school folks remember.

I don't want to hate on the person that I was -- time has put me in a better position to examine that person, to grow out those flaws. And somewhere inside of me -- hopefully very deep down -- the remnants of that self remain. I've matured, though. I'm sure we all have.

Past is prologue. The experiences of old -- folded notes and Sorry So Sloppys, the cruel games that girls play, the drama over nothing, the boy craziness, the singing, the fighting, the laughing, the late night games of tag, volleyball and follow-that-car -- laid way for the future and helped me become the person that I am. A person who continues to grow and looks forward to the changes and challenges that will come.