I have a problem with nostalgia. Too often, I think about times that are long gone. While reminiscing in and of itself isn’t a problem, focusing on the “What If’s” and “Might Have Been’s” is.
Aug. 20 marked the first day of my senior year of college. At the time, I was ready for it. Then nostalgia got the best of me, and about a month into the semester I called my parents and told them I would be staying an extra year. I wish I could say that I had a good reason for it, but the truth is, I didn’t.
There’s nothing wrong with staying an extra year to finish your studies, especially if you changed majors. But I hadn’t. In fact, I was in the last of my required courses for my journalism major. If I had created my schedule better, I probably could have graduated in December.
Somehow, I convinced my parents that another year of schooling was best. I wasn’t feeling confident in journalism anymore, I told them, and I wanted to explore my other interests before I lost the chance. For my fifth year, I planned on completing my dance minor, adding a leadership studies minor and completing the journalism design certificate.
On paper, everything I told them made perfect sense. Everything I said to them seemed like a legitimate reason to stay.
But in my head, I only had one reason – regret. Every time I reminisced on the past three years, instead of seeing everything I had done, I saw everything that I hadn’t done.
I started focusing on the “What If’s.” What if I had tried harder at dance? Would I have made it as a dance major? What if I had joined my sorority my freshman year instead of waiting until I was a sophomore? Would I have felt more comfortable and been able to be a better leader? What if I hadn’t joined at all? Would I have been more focused on journalism?
The “What If’s” kept pushing their way in. The missed opportunities flew by. I wanted to be a Pi Chi, an orientation leader and an Honors mentor. I wanted to volunteer more, join Outlet and try out for Code Red. I wish I had gone to more football games and tailgates.
For a whole semester, these “Might Have Been’s” fueled my reason behind staying an extra year.
And then suddenly, near the end of last semester, they disappeared. They were replaced with the memories I did have. It’s the memory of sitting on steps outside of a church in Italy with an amazing group of Honors students while one of them played his guitar and sang in the middle of the night. It’s the memory of seeing a tear jerking Broadway play in New York, of getting my first and then second Little Sister within my sorority, and of performing in a beautifully choreographed dance for my friend Rachel. It’s the memory of reporting on the London Olympic Games with a group of talented student journalists.
And suddenly, my time here at Ball State didn’t seem like a pile of missed opportunities, but instead a bouquet of beautiful ones that can only be added to.
On “How I Met Your Mother,” they call them Graduation Goggles. It’s when all of high school you hate it and can’t wait to get out until right before graduation. Then everything seems so wonderful, and you don’t want to leave anymore.
Now, I don’t hate Ball State, but the intention of college is not to stay forever. It’s a stepping stone to get to the next part of your life.
For a whole semester I was wearing my Graduation Goggles, never wanting to leave.
Now it’s finally time to take off my goggles.
