Graduations and Other Things..
Over the weekend, I attend a high school graduation. As I watched my, now, former students walk across the stage and receive their certificates, I was immediately shot back to my turn on that stage. Yet I could not empathise with the sense of satisfaction on their faces. Each time I graduated, I felt nothing. I was not satisfied. I was not overwhelmed with emotions or a sense of completion. Nor was I numb to the significance of the day nor the magnitude of this milestone. Still, the sense of accomplishment that ought to follow these events was absent. And this absence was blinding on a day dedicated to celebrating my achievements.
Nearly 10 years on, when I look at my high school graduation, this is all I remember. That feeling of anticipation; waiting for the excitement and satisfaction to kick on. Only for it to never emerge. I went to bed the same person I was when I woke up. Not changed by my new status as an alumnus. Nor was I freed from the shackles of an institution I believed had trapped me. And I was eternally disappointed. In this disappointment, I began planning for the next phase of my life; Law School. I figured that if High School could not satisfy me, perhaps the intricacies of the law might.
When it happened again, as I graduated from Law School, this disappointment continued. Although I had a greater sense of self and a greater sense of accomplishment, I still felt confused about why we had gathered. Why was I being celebrated when I had done nothing special. I was supposed to bring home a first-class Law Degree, and I brought home a First Class Law Degree. In fact, to the eyes of some, I had failed in my principal mission of attending university abroad. Although I was leaving with a world-class degree, I did not have a world-class London job. Had I not made plans to pursue my master's, I would be returning home, with my tail between my legs and the stench of, thinly masked, failure. I did not feel accomplished.
When I finally graduated with my Master's', I finally accepted the banality of graduation in my life. I finally accepted that they may never engender the response I'd like from them. Not just graduations, but birthdays; New Year's Eve; Christmas. These seismic events - really opportunities to shift your perspective of the world – have not been as important for me.
Perhaps the common denominator is me?
Was I demanding too much from these events? Did I expect a nebula, when all that was available to me were glow-in-the-dark stars? Or maybe the reason I embraced their banality was to hide from the opportunity these events presented to me? A chance at re-invention, I never fully accepted. Or, perhaps, I was so preoccupied with achieving a victory that I never stopped to celebrate my wins? Possibly, because I was afraid that they would turn into losses
Either way, these experiences have made me dread large events. The fear of being underwhelmed has motivated me to forgo the charade of birthdays, or celebrating my wins.
Until March 2023; wherein I received some news that freed me from this fear. This news encouraged me to luxuriate in my victories and savour them (btw easier said than done). So for the past two months, I have been celebrating my wins and using this opportunity to rewrite my history.
I recognise, now, that I could not celebrate my high school graduation because I did not know who I was. So I was not sure what I was celebrating. I am also, acutely, aware that the ways in which I wanted to celebrate were closed off to me, thus limiting whatever joy the experience could have brought me. I was not broken. I was just young.
In law school, I did not savour my victory because I had a skewed idea of what victory looked like. One that prevented me from properly contextualising all that I had achieved in my life. One that stopped me from embracing my failures – real or otherwise. I was not broken. I was just young.
Now, as I embark on one of the hardest things I may ever have to do, I'm going to learn to savour every victory. I am no longer broken, I am a work in progress. I am no longer young, I am in my prime.
It's about time I made the most of it.
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