Twas The Night Before the 20th High School Reunion...

When I tell you I loved high school, I’m not exaggerating. I loved high school. I used to daydream that they’d build a college on the same campus so I’d never have to leave. I sobbed my eyes out at our Senior All Night Party after graduation. I was voted “Most Likely to Work at Mercy.” I had school spirit, served on Student Council, and was friends with all kinds of people. I imagined I’d be one of those people who kept in touch with everyone.

But things didn’t quite go that way. I keep in touch with only a few friends from high school now. Years ago, I went on a bit of a Facebook cleanse and deleted anyone I didn’t actually talk to in real life. There went tons of high school connections, with a simple click of a button. Sometimes I feel pangs of jealousy or guilt when I see others still close with their high school friends.

So what happened? Honestly, I’m not sure. For a while, I blamed social media—seeing everyone’s lives online made me feel like I was still connected, even when I wasn’t. But if I’m being truthful, I simply lost touch over time—new priorities, new friendships, and seasons when my mental health made it hard to stay connected. When I struggle, I tend to pull away.

Some friendships ended in drama I can barely remember now, yet I still grieve those losses. Some of them hurt more than romantic breakups. I still don’t fully understand what went wrong—just that there were misunderstandings, hurt feelings, and distance that grew until we no longer knew how to bridge it.

And now, here we are—the eve of our 20th high school reunion. At first, I wasn’t sure I’d go. There are still wounds. But a dear friend has worked hard to organize it, and I want to support her. My childhood best friend and I will take a deep breath and go together.

Most importantly, I’m opening myself up to possibility. Maybe I’ll connect with someone I never really knew in high school. Maybe I’ll find forgiveness—or offer it. Maybe we’ll laugh, share memories, and realize how much we’ve all grown. Maybe it’ll be awkward—and that’s okay too.

I’ve spent a lot of my life saying “no” when things felt scary, backing out of plans because anxiety convinced me not to go. But at 38, I refuse to let fear keep me from showing up. Yes, I’m nervous—I might overshare, say something stupid, or feel ignored. But those nerves can’t stop me from embracing what could also be a beautiful celebration of connection and growth.

I still hold high school memories close to my heart. So showing up tomorrow night is also showing up for the eager 17 year old girl who graduated in 2005. She lacked confidence, and she suffered terribly from anxiety. But she didn't let that stop her from doing scary things. Time for me to do the same.