The Beauty of the Struggle

Tonight I watched nearly three hundred young adults walk across a stage.  It probably took them thirty seconds, even in heels and long robes, stopping for a picture, and worrying about not tripping over their own two feet.  Yet that thirty second walk they’d spent a week practicing for and thirteen long years full of anticipation.  Being back in the same place I was five long years ago, naturally got me thinking.

I mentioned in the past that I write YA, and I mentioned it’s because that’s what I fell in love with.  It sounds like it’s marketed exclusively for teenagers, doesn’t it?  Those people that are on the precipice of adulthood, unsure of where they stand in this world, unsure of everything?  But, really, as an adult, do any of us really know where we stand?  Are we sure of everything?  If I am an adult (I think I am), then the answer is no.  Am I sure I am happy with the people in my life?  Yes.  Am I sure that these are the people I want to have in my life for the rest of it?  Absolutely.  Am I certain of my faith, my beliefs, my morals, my ambitions, and the capabilities and goodness of my loved ones?  Undeniably.  But I would say I am far from having everything figured out, and that’s ok.  I write as I go, I learn as I go, and I live as I go.  And I do all of this at my own pace.

But there is something that comes after graduation.  It is not an unfailing sense of who you are and the things you’ll do.  It isn’t even a sense that after the night’s over and the last party guest leaves that everything will magically be different.  It is the knowledge, which slowly creeps up on you, that life has a tragically beautiful impermanence. 

Sure, you may know that in high school.  Maybe you’ve lost a family member, or a friend, or just an acquaintance.  Maybe you haven’t lost anybody, but you feel loss as acutely as though it were one of your own limbs, and that’s ok.  But in high school particularly, things have a way of feeling torturously unchanging.  I assure you, life is not.

They call it the real world.  As if you haven’t really been alive all this time, so much as biding your time in a bubble watching the world around you.  But we’re all living in the real world, and we always have been.  The perception is simply that what happens in high school dictates the rest of your life.  Perhaps you believe as I did, that your friends would always stay your friends, that the people you thought you loved would forever be by your side, that you would never make a mistake again or have regrets.  The understanding is that everything will change, and nothing at all. 

In those hallowed purple halls that I spent four years, I lived a lifetime.  I learned things about the world, myself, my friends, even complete strangers.  I had some of the most fun-loving, crazy, beautiful, hysterical, and (sorry, but if you were my friend, it’s true) dorky girls and guys to call my family…brothers and sisters, all different but the same in our passions.  And when I was with them, those were some of the best times of my life.  I would have never made it through high school without the group of friends I had, because for all the fights, all the silly drama, all the things that seemed oh-so-important, they understood what you were going through in a way nobody else could.  In that vein, I felt like a bit of a loner my first two years of high school.  I spent a lot of time in a world of my own creation, but for those who don't, I hope they will read YA, and know that there are others who feel the same way.

I have an amazing, supportive family, but the most supportive family in the world couldn’t have stopped me from feeling occasionally worthless, not good enough, pretty enough, skinny enough, smart enough, a good-enough friend, a good-enough person, a good-enough human.  Not through any fault of their own, but because being a teenager, experiencing your whole world changing at once, is infinitely complex.  Because it is infinitely confusing.  Because it is infinite.

I am certain today, as I am certain of my name or the color of the sky, that I was not the only one who ever felt the creeping hand of insecurity.  Now I am wise enough to know that it is OK not to do all the same things as all your friends, that it’s OK to feel like the whole world is against you, that it’s OK to question your purpose and that it’s OK to wonder if it’s all worth it.  In high school, these things compound, and the pressure of them threatens you, wants to push you into the ground and grind you into dust.  It’s heavy, it’s dirty, and it’s never even close to perfect.  But it’s beautiful, the way tragedy is beautiful in the way it brings people together, the way a butterfly looks upon it’s wings and truly appreciates who it was before. 

Being a Young Adult is a time of innocence, a time for mistakes.  A time when every single emotion feels like it could be bottled and reused or enough to end your world.  A time when we learn the most about who we are and who we want to be, when a kiss seems like the sweetest spell, a look can make you smitten, and a single kind word can make your day.  It is the time where you experience all the joys of adulthood-driving, gambling, working,- and retain all the joys of youthful innocence.  It is the time where we are the most influential, the time that molds us for the future, the time that every joy is a passion.  And it is one of the most beautiful things I can think of, in it’s own rite.

So for everyone who considers themselves a Young Adult (and even those who don't), for everyone who walked across that stage, and especially for my sister:  I have heard people say that graduation shouldn’t be made into such a big deal.  I have heard them say that it is not an accomplishment.  I have heard them say that it is more of an expectation than an achievement.  I say they’re wrong.  Surviving a tidal wave of feelings, going back day after day, running through the halls to make it to class on time, staying up late to finish essays you couldn’t care less about, and most admirable of all, never giving up…that’s something to be proud of.  Congratulations, class of 2014.  My wish for you is that you will grow and learn and be happy, but never forget the way things felt for you as a young adult.  Never let go of this, not completely, because it is truly a beautiful time.  But should you ever lose your sense of wonder, pick up a young adult book, and remember just how strong you are for all that you’ve already overcome.