Most people will describe their college years as fun, funny, and funky. These were energetic years spent in celebration of youth and adventure, sometimes inside and at times outside the bedroom. What makes this period really memorable are the countless records of firsts that will remain incontestable for the years to come, where all succeeding experiences will be judged upon. First boyfriend, first torrid kiss, first motel stay, first drug overdose, and to some, first-born child.
In my case, I never fail to make a tsk-tsk sound when people ask me about how I spent college. I raise my eyebrows in exasperation and describe them as my dark years. When pressed some more for details, I just say I wish I didn't grow up with so much twisted ideas on love, life, and most especially, acceptance.
No, it's not what you think. I finished college on time, I never had a failing mark, I was done with my thesis one semester ahead, I was your Mom's typical ideal student. More than this, I lived alone and I was adept at budgeting money to doing laundry to self-massage.
The trouble starts ten years later after graduation when you start reminiscing. Some friends will marvel you about their sexual escapades you never thought were possible in those years. Some will regale you about nights spent boozing and cruising. Everyone seemed to have grand stories to tell. Except me. I'm then forced to lend my ears to all of these while trying so hard not to beat myself in reproach.
On one end, I'm glad I delivered what was expected of me by my parents. That was the least I can do. But the good feeling ends there. The other end of the story chides me no end for falling into the trap of trying to fit in the mold, to please everybody, to allow stereotype to camouflage what was the real me. Putting it bluntly, I was practically living up to other people's expectations at the expense of self-discovery and the joy that comes from it. How I lived, how I behaved, how I reacted to the world, unfortunately, were dictated by what most people would consider ideal or good or perfect. I was living at the mercy of other people's perception of good and evil.
Those were dark years I'm glad are over now. I have since held a good grip on life and lived one that's genuinely me. I feel strongly on many things and have my opinion heard on certain things. I am no push-over, I am independent, I am pragmatic, I'm no longer defined by anyone's standards. I am proud of myself now, I feel good, I feel light, and, the best part of it all, they know.
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