Being a recent college grad brings its own set of struggles. Not only are you expected to have a (somewhat) steady job, but you should, at least according to general standards, be dating someone on a regular basis and be financially independent. It’s easy to get bogged down in expectations.

I suppose each stage of life carries its own weights. But, I can tell you as a new kindergarten teacher who just graduated from college that where I’m at is really, really difficult.

I went to college in New York, and, as I’ve said countless times, I fell in love with it. When I dream, I’m back on Main Street with my friends, getting Turiello’s pizza and laughing away our worries. I’m back directing the school play, watching Shakespeare’s characters come alive in some of the most talented people I’ve ever met. I’m back where my heart still is.

Where I’m at now isn’t bad. I’m living at home, saving money, spending time with family, and planning lessons. My kindergarteners are gradually getting used to being in a classroom and seeing their daily triumphs is a special kind of reward.

What I can’t help is that my mind keeps wandering back to New York. I can’t be there in person, but daydreaming is its own kind of homecoming.

Most of my friends live on the East Coast, if not in my college town, so I’m constantly wondering what it would be like if I’d chosen a different path and stayed.

It doesn’t help that my college friends don't live in the Midwest as I do, which leaves me with a feeling of loneliness that often catches me off-guard and always takes my breath away.

There’s a strange disconnectedness that accompanies graduation, a sense of separation that leaves you wishing you would have appreciated what you had even more. You’ve worked so hard and invested in great relationships, and all of the sudden, you have to move on.

I want to express my longing through writing because I know that so many college grads are experiencing the same thing. The potential depression and often overwhelming nostalgia may lessen over time, but right now, it’s powerful.

The important thing is to know that other people are working through this --the grads who stay in town or those who move away are all trying to figure out life from an unfamiliar standpoint.

I’m a huge fan of "The Lord of the Rings," both the books and the movies, and no matter where I find myself, one quote from the third movie always rings true. As the hobbits are finally going home, Frodo asks, “How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you begin to understand, there is no going back?”

Herein lies part of the answer to my current dilemma. No matter how much my heart pulls me back to New York, things won’t be the same if I go back. At the same time, I can’t expect things to be the same while I’m back in my hometown.

I’m not who I was when I left for New York, and I can’t realistically hope that everyone and everything will stay the same no matter how I change.

Frodo is right: there is no going back, at least not the way my heart really wants. The only way is forward, and that, in itself, is an encouraging thought.