I am a vistor here; I am not permanent.
Was back at Vassar this weekend for a Squirm 10th anniversary conference/reunion/networking thing. Being on campus again was...surreal, to say the least. It's been long enough that I comprehend I'm not supposed to be there, but not long enough that it feels foreign...so I had this weird "I'm here but I'm not really here" dissonance the whole time. I had a purpose on campus relating to something I did in undergrad, so it felt natural and right, but walking on the paths and through the buildings, I knew these things didn't belong to me anymore; I can't just pop into Lathrop and say hi, I can't head to the Retreat for dinner, I can't just go grab some books from the library and work in my room - it's not 3, 4, 5, 6 years ago, no matter how much it feels like it. Strange and disorienting headspace to be in all weekend.
The trip actually made me weirdly emotional, which I hadn't been expecting. I was excited to go back beforehand, and I obviously anticipated a tinge of nostalgia, but the first night I stepped foot on campus, I didn't feel like I missed it at all. I mostly felt happy that this wasn't my entire life anymore, that there was something beyond this.
It really hit me after all the discussions during the conference. Talking about sexual politics, sex-positivity as a cornerstone of psychological and physical well-being, navigating the distinction between porn and erotica, finding a balance between using sexual material to push boundaries and promote a message and simply for its inherent pleasure - and how those are really serving the same end...I haven't immersed in that kind of discourse since I graduated. Reconnecting with that part of my life, and with the people who directly and indirectly contributed to it, is what really made me feel like I was back, and what really made me feel the loss.
And the genuine ease with which all of us - current students, recent alums, earlier alums, Bard students, Harvard students, NYU/Columbia students - transitioned into socializing on Saturday night...I've never felt so much like I was among kindred spirits. I mean, of *course* we're all going to bring beer, of *course* we're going to smoke, of *course* we're going to sit around and chat for 4 hours while porn is on in the background - we're all here for the same reasons, we all have these shared core beliefs. There was never a moment of "Uhh, what am I doing here with these people?" I could have sat down with any one of them at any point and been able to have a meaningful, fulfilling conversation. I liked some of them more than others, sure, but I could have talked to *any* of them at length without wanting to shoot myself in the face. And that says something (especially for me).
I've always wondered if I did the right thing by going to Vassar. I've never been good about making decisions; I can't stop worrying about the "what if"s and missed opportunities, about being wrong, about the road not taken. Even up to now, and *especially* recently during the whole grad school ordeal, I wondered if I should have just taken that scholarship to Stony Brook, if my skills and CV would have been better, if I should have just saved the money for grad school. Driving away from campus after the end of the conference today, I had never been so certain that I'd made the right choice. I can't imagine my life otherwise.
ETA: Counter-factual thinking: http://shrinktalk.net/?p=107
The trip actually made me weirdly emotional, which I hadn't been expecting. I was excited to go back beforehand, and I obviously anticipated a tinge of nostalgia, but the first night I stepped foot on campus, I didn't feel like I missed it at all. I mostly felt happy that this wasn't my entire life anymore, that there was something beyond this.
It really hit me after all the discussions during the conference. Talking about sexual politics, sex-positivity as a cornerstone of psychological and physical well-being, navigating the distinction between porn and erotica, finding a balance between using sexual material to push boundaries and promote a message and simply for its inherent pleasure - and how those are really serving the same end...I haven't immersed in that kind of discourse since I graduated. Reconnecting with that part of my life, and with the people who directly and indirectly contributed to it, is what really made me feel like I was back, and what really made me feel the loss.
And the genuine ease with which all of us - current students, recent alums, earlier alums, Bard students, Harvard students, NYU/Columbia students - transitioned into socializing on Saturday night...I've never felt so much like I was among kindred spirits. I mean, of *course* we're all going to bring beer, of *course* we're going to smoke, of *course* we're going to sit around and chat for 4 hours while porn is on in the background - we're all here for the same reasons, we all have these shared core beliefs. There was never a moment of "Uhh, what am I doing here with these people?" I could have sat down with any one of them at any point and been able to have a meaningful, fulfilling conversation. I liked some of them more than others, sure, but I could have talked to *any* of them at length without wanting to shoot myself in the face. And that says something (especially for me).
I've always wondered if I did the right thing by going to Vassar. I've never been good about making decisions; I can't stop worrying about the "what if"s and missed opportunities, about being wrong, about the road not taken. Even up to now, and *especially* recently during the whole grad school ordeal, I wondered if I should have just taken that scholarship to Stony Brook, if my skills and CV would have been better, if I should have just saved the money for grad school. Driving away from campus after the end of the conference today, I had never been so certain that I'd made the right choice. I can't imagine my life otherwise.
ETA: Counter-factual thinking: http://shrinktalk.net/?p=107