So, the big day finally arrived, and BYU kicked me out. Of course they did it in the nicest way possible, and I deserved it. I'd worked to get myself there. But no matter how close the light at the end of the tunnel comes, it still hurts a bit as your eyes adjust to the brightness that surrounds you. I think that's why it has taken me so long to write about it here. It's taken me a week or so to get used to the idea that I am no longer a student, and until now, I haven't really wanted to talk about it. But, I think I am coping well now, so here we go.
Graduating from BYU marks the end or an era in my life. The era began when I was about five years old when my mother began teaching me the BYU Fight Song. Ever since, blue and white pride has been in my blood and I knew it was my destiny to be a cougar.
Sitting the the Marriott Center in my cap and gown with my family watching on was surreal. I had finally accomplished the goal that I had set more than a decade before--I was a college graduate. It's hard leaving all you've ever known. I've been a student practically all my life. In fact my earliest memory is my mom walking me to preschool in Arizona when I was three. But having my family there, being with Cecily as we walked across the stage, and hearing my Dad say he was proud of me gave me the closure I needed. Don't get me wrong, I love being a student and plan to be one again soon (please let me get into law school!), but now I am a college graduate, a cool but weird new addition to my identity. I don't know if this has made any sense, but if is sounds a bit nonsensical it's because I've experienced a tornado of emotions and haven't quite figured how to sort it all out yet.
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