The beginning of a journey

I could launch into any one of a hundred cliches about footsteps and life journeys, but I've never had much patience for that sort of thing. That, and to claim my life has been a journey would be doing you, the reader, a huge disservice. For a start, claiming my life is a journey implies that I have experienced hardships, struggles and adventure, and that is absolutely not the case. Let's just say that if the story of my life was made into a book, it'd probably be as riveting as the average unabridged dictionary.

No, I am setting out on a real, honest-to-goodness journey from Southern New Hampshire to Manhattan, Kansas. This might not seem like a lot to some of you, but to someone who has lived all of their twenty-two years in one very small state, it's a big change. Colossal, in fact.

I have lived in my house, a nondescript tan ranch in the middle of the 'burbs, literally since I was a fetus (my parents closed on our house when my mother was still pregnant). I'm 5'6", with brown hair and brown eyes, and I have a scar on my left temple from when I had chicken pox when I was seven. I sing a little, draw a little, and even write from time to time. I've got two parents, a dog, and a younger sister, and when I was little I dreamed of becoming a physical therapist for animals, because I couldn't stand the sight of blood. Oh, and from the time I started attending school, the one thing that ever set me apart was my obsession with reading.

I think I'm unique, but deep down I know I'm not. There are hundreds of thousands of girls just like me, who love the same books I do, and want the same things out of life. It's almost comforting to know that I'm not alone with my hobbies and values. It makes the world less scary.

But the world is scary. It's even scarier when you're about to be a college graduate with a bachelor's degree in English in the middle of economic recession, with no car, no job, and no experience. Then, it is absofuckinglutely terrifying.

So I'm doing something unexpected. I'm doing something bold, daring, maybe even crazy. I'm making a conscious decision to leave everything I know, (including my Massachusetts accent), behind in order to pursue a Master's degree in English. I am leaving behind the house I grew up in, the boyfriend I spent three years wooing, the aging dog who can always cheer me up, and my parents, (who have never let me do a thing on my own), to go to Kansas, where I do not know a single soul.

In essence, I am leaving everything I know behind so I can find myself and the conviction that I lack. It's absolutely nerve-wracking and it makes my careful, cautious and shy self cringe.

And I say, bring it.