I graduated high school twenty years ago.
I was a 17-year-old graduate who didn’t have a clue. I think about the things that were different back then.
Twenty years ago was before the moving, the moving, the moving… before the roommate who stole, the living with the in-laws, the roommate who worshiped birds, the living alone,,,,
Twenty years ago was before I had come fully out to everyone. I was bi to only a select few.
Twenty years ago, I had resigned myself to going to college to get some sort of degree… it was probably going to be English so I could teach because I didn’t have any idea what other careers were out there.
Twenty years ago, I wanted to be an adult so bad that I made colossally bad decisions and burnt some never-to-be-rebuilt bridges.
Twenty years ago, I was aware of my bad decisions and had resigned myself to probably making more. I was pretty sure I would not make it to 21.
Twenty years ago, I was embarrassed by my glasses. I had never died my hair or gone on a crash diet or been to a protest.
Twenty years ago, I didn’t plan to travel out of CA or to have a child or to vote.
But some things were the same.
Twenty years ago, I was a feminist.
Twenty years ago, I was queer.
Twenty years ago, I loved to read.
Twenty years ago, I preferred breakfast to all other meals, I knew how to diagram a sentence, and I unabashedly loved musicals.
Twenty years ago, I loved Star Trek.
Twenty years ago, I hated Shakespeare.
Twenty years ago, I would sometimes wake in the middle of the night sure that there was something special about me… something unique and relevant to the world. There were moments that I would be so full of ideas and potential energy that I could hardly breath. Twenty years ago those moments were frightening. Today… they still are, but I appreciate them on a whole different level.
Here’s to the next twenty years.