One decade ago, to this very day, I graduated from high school, and what better time to be retrospective???

On the 25^th of May 2013, I woke up fifteen minutes before my alarm to a phone call from my nanna, sending me all the love in the world and wishing she could be there, as she wasn’t well enough to travel that weekend. My Grandma Jan was still alive and very concerned that we would all be late. My brother ironed my gown with the precision that only his career in the Army could have taught him, and my childhood home was alive with laughter, conversation, and my unstoppable tears. This was it. Nothing would ever be the same.

Anyone who knew me back then will tell you that I woke up crying and cried pretty much non-stop until 9pm that evening. You see, I grew up in a tiny community, and many of the people I entered kindergarten with walked the graduation stage with me thirteen years later. I was given three siblings by my parents and countless others by the local school district. I was ready for the next chapter and to break free from the struggles I’d faced in my teenage years, but I wasn’t prepared to miss my friends.

And truth be told… I am still not ready to miss them.

Part of the thing about growing up in—and leaving—a small town is that you see people pretty regularly for the first few years, even those of us who moved away. There are weddings, trips home to visit parents, funerals, and moving vans to pick up hand-me-down furniture to bring you around. Then, at some point, everyone who was going to get married has, or you move too far away for bachelorettes and birthdays. Sometimes, you remain a cherished part of someone’s past but don’t make the cut to join them in their future.

I moved away. Far away. Multiple Times. And for every inch and every mile, I think about my friends and family, who I only see through social media feeds. Birthdays ping in my mind well before Facebook reminds me of them, and I watch our successes from the other side of the planet. One of us is a Lawyer, one played volleyball on the international stage, a few are living the perfect life they imagined on their family farms with children of their own now, and me? I’ve lived at least three different lives in the last ten years. I have loved each one for various reasons. Now, I am exactly where I dreamt I would be, but perhaps never expected to actually get to.

Ten years ago, I had a UK-themed grad party. My sister painstakingly decorated a cake with a Union flag on it. It was just the theme. I loved Doctor Who and other BBC Dramas; I watched the last Independence Referendum like a hawk, and it was just a wild dream that I’d even one day get to visit. Now, I live in Scotland.

I can’t imagine that Rhonee ever thought she’d have to mail my birthday gifts to Scotland as she piped the icing onto the cake… But here I am, currently waiting for the postie to knock on my door, with my birthday parcel in hand.

As I said, ten years is a lifetime and no time at all.

I have three advanced degrees and have had three dream jobs and just accepted a new one. I have beaten crippling depression and an eating disorder and come out happier than I ever imagined I could be. I have moved house twelve times. Loved, Lost, Loved, Lost, and Loved again. I laughed, cried, and faced every emotion under the sun, and I cannot wait to see what the next ten years will bring me.

To Be Continued…