It's been more than a year since I got out of college and none of it feels real. When you're in senior year, you have all of these preconceived notions of how those final two semesters are going to go. Some of it is from watching movies, some from the stories of those who have preceded you, but a lot of it is your fantasies. That's alright. Just own it.

Here's the thing: we're all lying. We lie to ourselves in the mirror, we lie to our friends in the hallway, and we lie to everyone following us on social media. All of those pictures we posted before going out? They didn't show the sweaty, gross hair after an hour of dancing, the drunk and crying girls outside who broke their phones or lost their group or were harassed by an equally drunk guy. Our photos show us grinning on the steps with our friends, not that we fought over a stupid t-shirt (I'm sorry, Emily; it was never about the shirt). They show us lying in the grass, sunning ourselves on the quad, not the existential breakdowns college cause five times a semester or the three hours of panicked studying that will commence that night.

We don't want to admit our lives aren't perpetually awesome despite the fact we know that since ours are not, and it's a condition of being alive, that other people's must not be either. Still, we hide behind Valencia filters and big sunglasses we probably shouldn't have added to our credit card bill and we keep trying. That certainly doesn't change after college.

So I'm going to take a crack at being honest here. I'm still not going to post any photos where my hair is frizzy or I look tired (which is always the first five I take), but I am going to tell the truth. My life has not been awesome since I graduated. It's been a lot harder than I expected. I thought I'd stay down by school and get a job there and that is not at all how things went down. I came back, got very sick just a few weeks later and couldn't take care of myself. Getting a job took way longer than I thought it would and I've cycled through a couple in less than a year through no fault of my own. It's pretty common these days to get laid-off but when you're a bushy-tailed new grad, it hurts. I look at my resume and wonder what's wrong with me. Nothing, I'm a good person and it is no reflection of me. I know it will get better and someday I'll look back and be glad I shrugged it off and moved on to bigger and better things.

Post-grad life is not what I thought it would be but that's alright. It was time to leave college. That doesn't mean that I don't miss the ski shop where I spent some of my happiest weekends, the nutty but wonderful coworkers I had, and the small mountain up the road where I learned to snowboard. I miss Kyle reminding us of how we couldn't help but be jealous of his perfect hair. I can't eat a sandwich anymore without remembering how Sam would eye it hopefully; I'd give it up and eat an apple instead. Or that time Cassidy jumped me and Alex zoomed by and snatched the cookie. The camaraderie and antics made the early mornings worth it and I'd give anything to go back to those days and the simplicity of it all.

I miss my old house immensely, with the cackling cross-country girls running down the hall or doing interpretive dances in the living room, and Kaylee's beautiful sense of interior design. Some of my fondest memories include curling up on someone's bed in the filtered sunshine washing through the blinds and taking a nap; or sitting in the common room with Emily busting out last-minute papers as Tay admonished us to just try getting things done on time for once, and then asking if I'd actually been keeping up with the logic homework. I hadn't. I miss the porch swing that would always scrape against the railing and hearing Kate-monster squawk at me through the window. I even miss the dumb washer and dryer out on our back porch that would freeze in the winter, the kitchen lights that came on when they felt like, and the doorknob that fell off one morning. I miss always having someone to talk to when I showered (but not Kaylee singing) and heart-to-hearts with Kenzie on the Fridays I'd stay in.

I regret not spending more time with them. Sometimes I needed to be alone or wanted to see other friends, but I regret spending senior ball with my then-boyfriend instead of the girls. They were always there for me; they didn't make me cry in my sequined dress five minutes before we were supposed to go. They didn't cause me to cry later that night on the porch swing, acting crazy and telling me things that couldn't possibly be the truth. They didn't skip my graduation like he did, causing drama even at the last possible minute, mixing in love with so many lies I didn't even know what to believe anymore.

I'm glad he didn't come, didn't act up in front of my family and make it about himself instead of a celebration. And I'm glad my housemates were there to keep me sane that morning while I ran around in my underwear, makeup on and dress hanging over my arm while I yelled I couldn't find my shoes. Meanwhile, they were all dressed and hurrying me because we had to leave in five minutes. That will probably be my fondest memory.

Life after has been tough. There was the vicious breakup and an equally vicious illness, a month of stupid rebounds that haunt me and realizing after a three-hour drive that the person I wanted to be with had too many issues of his own to deal with mine too. I struggled to make friends and keep the long-distance ones. Depressing months of job hunting and thinking no one was going to want me took their toll.... With time and experience in the year after, you become surer that isn't true, that you'll end up fitting in someplace. No one could pay me to go back to last year, but I needed it to become the now-me. Resilient, purposeful, and willing to stand up for myself.

I stopped writing between the end of college and the completion of the year after. Nothing would come out of my fingers. I was worn out and wavering on the edge of giving up and just slogging along each day. Something snapped in me a few weeks ago. I made it through 365 and some extra days. One of the most profound things to come out of my brain, and I have no idea if it's something I was once told or it just materialized, was 'everyone struggles during the first year post-grad and then it just starts falling into place.'