Graduating early made so much sense at first. In my headcanon, it was the perfect scenario: I'd finish classes, work at the Tampa Bay Times for a few months, then find a great copy editing job near my family so real life could start by April.
One month later, I figured out that copy editing may not be for me. That was a little personally devastating after three years of focused schooling, but not insurmountable. Three months later, I realized that there was no way I could secure a job and housing in time to be a 'proper adult' by graduation. On April 1, I was sleeping in the bedroom I've had since age 13.
There was no great job, or any job, but real life had already started.
There is danger in imposing unrealistic deadlines on yourself. Even though the bar may be set astronomically high (ex. Attempting to begin financial independence by 22), there is still this crushing sense of disappointment in yourself for failing. And for me, there was no Wildcat support system to fall back on because every friendship I'd spent years cultivating was hundreds of miles away.
All of my childhood friends had long since departed from our sleepy hometown, too. The only person left was my long-term, long-distance boyfriend, and he seemed like a stranger without the comfort of Google Hangouts or a mute button.
The worst thing, though, was the one thing I'd never really anticipated. My family was pretty unprepared to suddenly have this sort-of adult on their hands with different habits, behaviors and attitudes than the girl who'd left in 2010. And I didn’t expect my house to stop feeling like home.
Everything in the household was a chore or battle. How could I have forgotten where we kept the cleaning supplies? Didn't I know the right way to do laundry/make dinner/walk the dog? Did I even know how to take care of myself?
For a while, life had all the makings of the summer before college, not the first season after it. My days were spent job hunting, cleaning or playing unhealthy amounts of Guild Wars 2, and I spent more than a few days wondering when my family had gotten so ridiculously intolerable rather than why I didn't seem to fit anymore.
At this point, I'm supposed to say that I buckled down and found a really great job that allowed me to do exactly what I wanted, and then my family and I had this teary heart-to-heart and we may be different, but we're still family and we love each other.
Instead, I tried to find a job for two months and had no serious prospects or hopes until my old supervisor called and offered an internship out of the blue.
There have been no heart-to-hearts with my family, but I’ve since come to accept that I’ve willingly given up part of my college-created comfort zone in order to live in a stable, rent-free environment. It’s not… bad, per se; it’s just different to suddenly have people interested in where and when you go places. However, it’s still totally embarrassing when my mother tries to impose a bedtime on me.
Someday, I’ll find that amazing job I was looking for. Then, maybe I’ll be able to stop mooching off my parents and get a place with a bathroom I don’t have to share. I might even stop imposing ridiculous deadlines on myself to get all this stuff done.
For now, I have a promising work opportunity that interests me and feels fulfilling. As an added bonus, this place comes with a loving family, a good partner and the cutest dog. There are still chores and battles, but I’m happy – and I’m home.
Dawnthea served as News Editor and Assistant Managing Editor/Copy Chief for North by Northwestern.