Special Post: New Day Grad

Awww Barclllaaaayysss!…Don’t be sour, Cllllaaappp for your New Day Grad and feeeeelllll tha poowwwaaa! It’s a New Day yes it is! (Music hits, chorus and preacher sings)

I never have been more unsure in my natural born life. Yes, I am happy to graduate. Anyone should be. As I enter Barclays Center with my capand gown, this is a moment for my parents more than it is for me. I don’t know anyone in my family that has graduated college. I don’t see anyone in my neighborhood fully capable of it neither. Not trying to humblebrag by any means. It does hurt that life has pulled me into a direction I never would have thought otherwise. Someone has to set a standard, why not me?

The pressure when it comes.to the rest of my life is frightening and exhilarating at the same time. I know the person that I am at 22 is a completely different person than I was at 19. Go figure. Is only for so long I can remain this young. This youthful. This naive…If anything this is a full stepping stone towards adulthood. Within the next two years, my sister is going to be a teenager. Within the next two months, she will start middle school. 😖

I’m starting to get a handle of who I am and what I stand for. I still revert to my kiddish shy demeanor when I meet others for the first time. It varies person to person, weeks to months. On the positive, I know recognize when I’m being taken full advantage of. Even being taken for granted…it is a continuing process, seeing what fits for me like a puzzle.. what doesn’t fit like the latest sneakers. As long as I continue to learn, I will find joy in the New Day.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s