My most hated phrase is "Welcome to the Real World"
It always has been. Perhaps this is because it was always used to justify something bad happening to me while growing up. Cancelled plans? Missed opportunity? Disappointment? "Welcome to the Real World, Allison." The phrase seemed to imply that I had been living in some imaginary world where everything was lollipops and fairy tales. It was as if virtually every adult believed my existence was contingent upon some land of make-believe and every so often I would hit a bump that would temporarily shoot me into adulthood and slowly return me back to my innocence. But even with my disdain for the term, I guess it always seemed to pack a punch. There was always a small part of me that was slowly bracing myself for the permanent pit in my stomach from crippling adult anxiety gnawing on every fiber of my being.
Since September of last year, I've been consistently writing about the rising anxiety, fear, and excitement that has resulted from graduating college. I've written about the journey that has been these past (almost) six years. I've meditated on how extremely blessed I have been to have had the opportunity to call myself a Wolverine, or to even have a degree at all. I am humbled by these past years. College sure did come to a bittersweet end. Perhaps more of a bittersweet end than I had originally anticipated.
I was so excited to finally be done. After years of wonder, hard work, and pitfalls, I was honestly ready to be free of textbooks and late night cramming sessions. And I still am. However, I wasn't expecting to be watching in envy, as my younger sister gathered up her materials for a new semester.
I've heard a lot of my friends, who graduated before me, announce how much they missed being enrolled in classes. Typically this did not occur until awhile after they had graduated. But it happened nonetheless. And for me, this happened three weeks post-commencement.
I think the main reason why I am longing to be back in a classroom is because the environment is familiar. I know who I am when I sit in a classroom. I am inspired. I am learning and growing. I'm Allison. Because really, who am I if not a college student? Who am I if I am not perched up in a classroom or behind a textbook? I've spent so long checking off 'student' on virtually every legal document I have come across that I really don't know anything else. I'm so lost in my own identity that my Nana bought me a book on 'How to Adult.' And it's been extremely helpful because, really, what does 'adulting' actually mean?
I've been tossing and turning and waking up with headaches. I start working on a project and am immediately distracted by 220 other things I need to do at that very precise moment (Seriously I've been writing this article for almost two hours now). I purchased a Passion Planner to help me organize my thoughts and my million-and-four anxieties that circle through my head on a day-to-day basis. I can't think straight. I constantly feel sick. Seriously, is this normal?
It's been three weeks and I'm already over this whole "relax, you'll get a job in your field in plenty of time! You JUST graduated" nonsense. Because the moment I hear it, my head is screaming in reply, "YOU WILL BE BROKE AND HOMELESS FOREVER." Meanwhile my credit card bill continues to decay on top of my dresser.
Is this what adults meant when they said 'Welcome to the Real World'? I never felt like I was walking in an imaginary world. However, I certainly feel as though I have stepped into some sort of alternate universe. But I still hate that phrase. I hate feeling like everything I have done up to this point doesn't measure to what I will endure. I hate feeling as though there is no excitement or peace awaiting me (because I most certainly know there is.) I will always hate that phrase because I just don't believe it is true. I may have turned a new page, but I'm not reading an entirely different book. This chapter just seems to be a bit more complicated. And that's fine, I guess.
