My husband and I trudge into the party room, feigning confidence despite our sweaty palms. I’ve agonized over my dress choice, my waistline, and my smokey eye shadow for weeks, yet I still don’t feel prepared. Former classmates eye us up, judging everything from our current size to our hair to how happy we appear. So begins a marathon of impressing others, avoiding the sneers of the “populars,” and trying not to look too awkward huddled in a corner sipping our drinks.
When I pictured our 10-year high school reunion, this was the image I had in my mind. I imagined the ultimate gauntlet of showing off, trying to convince my former classmates my life turned out okay, and avoiding condescending looks from the popular crowd. As a band nerd and academic, I was definitely not in the “top” clique in high school, and neither was my husband. Thus, I pictured our reunion to be a stark replay of high school, us the nerdy, aloof outcasts at a table for two, trying to pretend we weren’t feeling isolated.
I was so nervous on the way, I actually begged my husband to turn the truck around, even though I’d been the one to insist we had to go to our reunion. I thought of it as a rite of passage, feeling like we had to check it out, if nothing else then just to say we did. On the way there, though, I got cold feet, feeling waves of vomit and regret washing over me.
My high school reunion, though, wasn’t anything like I imagined it to be.
Sure, I did agonize over my outfit, even having a minor meltdown when the sandals I picked out didn’t quite go with the dress. I spent way too long getting ready, and my palms were definitely sweaty when we made our entrance.
Still, after making our entrance, we discovered everyone was feeling exactly like we were. There weren’t the highly defined cliques we imagined or the judgmental looks. There was simply a group of 20somethings trying to figure out what a 10-year high school reunion should look like.
After about five minutes of awkward hellos and figuring out where to stand, we settled in... and we had an amazing time. We caught up with old friends and even some former peers we didn’t spend a lot of time with. We met spouses, talked work, and reminisced about the past. We laughed about past moments and talked about future goals. No one even noticed who was wearing stilettos or cared what dress you were wearing. The pressure to look perfect was really pointless. It was far from the stuffy, glamorous, uncomfortable reunion I’d imagined.
It was so much better.
For a few short hours, we reconnected with the past from a mature, levelheaded vantage point 10 years can afford you. The barriers from high school I imagined could survive 10 years didn’t; they came tumbling down, and to our surprise, we had a great time.
Our weak exit strategy we’d developed in the truck never needed to be used; we ended up staying the entire time.
During the reunion, I realized at 28, many of us are in a similar boat. Even though we have vastly different lives, families, careers, and dreams, we’re all still wading through this thing called adulthood. We’re all still trying to chase dreams we haven’t achieved, still looking for some form of happiness. Everyone I talked to still has things to achieve, has regrets, and has questions about the future.
I think the beautiful thing about our reunion was that we were all the same people we were in high school in many ways. I recognized the pieces of personality in each of my former classmates, saw familiar hints of the teenagers we once were.
But we’re all different, too. There’s a sense of walls being broken down, of cliques being pretty irrelevant. I think we’ve all learned that band nerd, football star, cheerleader, academic, or not, you’re never quite prepared for what life throws at you. In the 10 years since high school graduation, I think a lot of us have learned figuring out where your life is headed is never a simple equation.
I’m not going to say my high school reunion changed my life. I haven’t completely reconnected with my past friends or started weekly dinner meetings. In all reality, it might be 10 years until I see any of them again. Still, I’m so glad I made the decision to go because it was so reassuring to see that no one has completely mastered being a grownup, nor did anyone claim to. For a few hours on one odd, muggy night at a local restaurant, we got to meld together our pasts and our presents. We got to commiserate with so many other couples facing some of the same struggles we are and celebrate the small victories we’ve achieved.
Most of all, we got to see firsthand that at 28, we’re not all that different from the 18-year-olds we once were, wondering what the next chapter of life will hold.
To the class of 2006, thank you for a great set of high school memories and a great reunion to remember them.
To my husband, thanks for not turning the truck around.
And to anyone thinking about skipping your 10-year reunion... just go. No one is going to really look at your eye shadow that closely, and you never know. You might just have a great time.
Lindsay Detwiler is a high school English teacher and a published contemporary romance author. To learn more about her works, visit www.lindsaydetwiler.com.