High School and Reunions

It seems like a lifetime ago, I graduated from high school. I went to a school in Western Maryland named Fort Hill High school. This last week has caused a lot of memories of that time.

The other night we rented and watched Friday Night Lights. Football was a big thing in my high school. It always has been, it always will be. Between the teams, the cheerleaders and the band over 300 kids out of about 900-1100 were involved in Friday night football games. Pretty scary huh? 1/3 of the population of the school.

It was a long time ago, so long in fact....I got emails this week from classmates.com. Messages from two of the girls I went to school with planning our high school reunion for next year. 15 years. 15 years!!??!?!?! I do not feel old. I really do not. But surely, if we are looking at a 15 year reunion...I am getting older.

I was involved in a lot of things in high school. I was president of Pep Club. We went to sporting events, painted signs (including our goal post signs) and cheered for our sports teams from the stands. I was president both my junior and senior year. I was also in a group called SHOP. (Students helping other people) And Christian fellowship, Tri-Hi-Y, and Student Councel. There were others too.

It is kind of funny. As active as I was in high school, I do not feel like I came away with a lot of people who actually knew me. And most of those who I was pretty close to, I just kind of lost contact with. I am torn. I would like to go to my reunion....but it is 2,000 miles away. I need to go home next summer for a visit with my sister, so I could go during the reunion. The thing is, these people do not even know me or probably even remember me. If they do, I am not sure they would be pleasent memories. Part of that is my own doing. I just never really opened up to people and let them into my life. I have always felt like the odd ball. In high school, most of the people in my class came from very normal familys. We did not even have a phone or cable because we were so poor. We barely had enough food to get by. Even if I was in thier clubs, I was not part of thier groups.

My life is radically different now. I am an adult. I have had literally years of thearpy to deal with my past. There came a point where the old me died and a new me emerged. Ok. Maybe not died. More like a catapiller and a butterfly. I was one person, I crawled into a coocoon of depression and drinking and emerged a whole new person. Yet, part of that past person is still me. The part that stays pretty guarded about trusting people.

I have come so far beyond that person I was. I am sure many of these people have too. There still may be clicks, but as I go through the class list on different websites, I noticed people who I didnt think would have kids...dont. And people who I thought would be settled in as a family, are. Few suprises. People are pretty much doing what I pictured them doing in their lives. But I do not think I am doing what they pictured me doing. If they even bothered to notice me enough to imagine I would be anywhere in life. I made good grades in school, tried hard. I went to college like I was suppose to. Not just a run of the mill but a good school. And now, I am a stay at home mom. I searched for me, and found life has not yet gone where I want. I am not on the wrong path though, just a different one then I imagined.

I really want to write. I have always wanted to write. I have a form of dyslexia, so it seems like a silly dream. But I have this need to express my thoughts in a creative way. I have always been able to think creatively...spelling and grammer. A WHOLE other story. I was just the odd kid, with the odd clothes, with the odd personality, and the guarded spirit. What if I go and I become that person again? That person I have spent so long trying not to be anymore. That even though I am now a middle class stay at home mom....I am still seen as a poor nothing. Still....a nothing.

I do not know what I will do. Guess we will wait until next summer and see. In case you have not guessed. I did not go to my 5 or 10 year. At 5 year I was still grieving from my mothers death. And at 10, I had just had my second child and living 2,500 miles away.