I’ve been trying to find a way to put this into words for a while. The weird entrapment I find myself in on some old high school classmate’s camp friend’s roommate’s Instagram. The way I snicker with nostalgia whenever someone whips out a Louis Vuitton coin purse. How I’ve come to realize that none of these things play any currency in my life anymore; and that they used to for so many of my peers, and continue to today.

Let me explain.

Moving away for college for anyone is a culture shock. Without a doubt. You find out people have different names for soda, or traffic circle or chicken parm heroes. It’s funny and you laugh about it freshman year in someone’s dorm room late at night. But then you start talking about high school: prom, graduation, college acceptances. And it’s not a slight difference that you might have applied to 17 schools. It’s bizarre. Or that you never slow danced at your prom because everyone left after the cocktail hour. That’s illogical.

People always talk about being in a bubble. You’re in your high school’s “bubble” for a while. Then you move to college and everything is big and new, but eventually it turns into another bubble.

If we’re talking bubbles, let me say right now, we live in the biggest (or I should really say smallest) bubble there is.

I’ll be the first to stand up on my soap box and preach about Long Island. I love it. I love the sea and the sand and Ralph’s ices as much as the next girl. But you don’t realize how much the island molds you until you leave.

The status quo is oppressive. You could cut it with a knife. Whether your school prefers Lily Pulitzer over tiny turquoise hamsa necklaces, it doesn’t really matter. Each town, each shore, has its own distinct features, which is comforting and nostalgic. But this doesn’t prepare you for what’s really out there.

Being in high school, sure the similarities were comical. How everyone seemed to have the same dog, the same vacation spots or knew the newest trends in a New York minute. But some people can get really affected by that. They forget who they are just to fit in. It happens all the time.

Going to college, I noticed how that wasn’t there. Everyone came with something new to the table. Now, that may well be the beauty of college, that people travel from all over, mixing different walks of life. Also, they may just be more mature. The structure of college allows for that more so than a public school system.

But should it? Shouldn’t a public school reflect the public, not just one sector of it? Shouldn’t a public school be diverse, however that may work? Race, religion, socioeconomic status, family structure or even fashion sense?

Obviously, there were individuals in my high school. Long Island is chock full of independent people. But it does seem weird, once you take a step back, that certain chunks of Nassau all end up at Indiana, Syracuse, Maryland or Penn State. Or that everyone gets that same Louis wallet for Hanukkah or Christmas. Or, when it rains, the halls are a walking advertisement for Hunter boots. Or that every guy seems to have traded or sold a pair of Jordans at some point in his life.

And if you recently grew up in Nassau and none of that resonates with you, chances are we are from entirely different towns. And I’m not talking geographically. I’m talking culturally, racially or religiously. Because, let’s have an honest moment here, when I drive into Freeport from Merrick, it’s not just a different school district. It may be a different world. The values, demographics and expectations from one town to another are just so stark at points, it’s bewildering.

Long Island has its flaws. Just like other regions likely do. It’s just so interesting that we make jokes or fail to seriously acknowledge these scenarios until we’re removed from them.

Is it wrong, bad or harmful? I don’t know. But there’s something to be said here, for sure.

The world is a big beautiful place. It’s nice to step outside the 516 and see what else is out there.

(But it’s also nice to come crawling back once you realize the pizza and bagels suck anywhere past Westchester.)