Throw Back

One of my best friends asked me last week:

“If you could go back to Westmont and do it all over again, as you are now, would you?”

I couldn’t find the right answer.

- Yes, I love my college, I would go back to do it again in a heartbeat.

- No, I couldn’t do Westmont again as the man I am today. 

Today I went up to my alma mater by happenstance and went to every dorm to see people that I know who still attend school.

As I drove away, I found myself incredibly overwhelmed. Westmont is like my own pubescent adulthood: Awkward. Pimply. Complete with intensified growing pains. Littered with happiness and fun and laughter.

It’s hard for me to go back because so much happened there. It’s too massive for me to embrace, I can’t reach my arms around it: all the memories, friendships, pain and growth. 

If I could go back to Westmont as the person that I am now, it would be fantastic. I think I would be and do better there in all areas of life since I am now confident in my sense of identity. My sense of self. 

But I begin to mourn. Part of me wants to mourn the fact that I struggled so much at Westmont and another part of me thinks that I didn’t take advantage of my time there.

But that is such a lie.

I lived. It’s important to realize that while I wasn’t completely realized during my time there, I did do the best I could then. I did take advantage. I was involved. I did care for people there as best I could. And without that time of pubescent adulthood, I would not be who I am today.

The past is what it is. 

Now I have to learn to stand proudly with my past, with the man I used to be: hand in hand, clothed in tears and laughter, proudly pockmarked, and renewed.