I hate change.

I am a creature of comfort. I love my family, the town I grew up in and I had zero desire to venture off to college.

My mom had other plans. For me, that is.

A spitfire of a New Yorker, she told me not only would I be going to college but I would be paying for it myself. She was, after all, a single parent. I was her child and she was confident she provided me with the tools to figure it out. She had my best interests at heart.

I would not question my mother’s wishes for me.

I was seventeen-years-old. It was the spring of my senior year. I worked hard to save money all summer long. Amazingly, with the help of student loans, by fall, I was ready  to embark on my freshman year.

I strolled out of my comforting Virginia and into Scranton, Pennsylvania.

A culture shock to a young girl from metropolitan D.C. I used to joke you could find a bar and a funeral parlor on every corner. A small town which looked as if time had stopped. In essence, for me it had. I now integrated into my small, Catholic college and missed my bigger public high school where my social life far exceeded my new surroundings.

I was still just seventeen-years-old.

I found myself forced to grow up here away from all I found familiar.

I was dutiful enough to follow my mother’s intentions. Yet, my feisty inner-child found her way home on every Greyhound bus she could commandeer that first semester.

I sent letters to my high school friends lamenting my deliverance to this unfamiliar land. And corresponded with one of my other high school BFF’s who had landed herself in a Pennsylvania Catholic college just like me. What can I say? We were both overly social high schoolers with like-minded mothers.

I resisted growth that year.

I resisted staying in that town. I fought and kicked and screamed and begged and yelled at my mother to listen to my unhappiness. She just proudly boasted that her youngest, overly social child had finally found academia in college. A Catholic college at that!

It was an Irish Catholic matriarchal dream come true! She had no doubt I was on the right path.

I still hate change.

I had zero desire to get divorced.

God had other plans. For me, that is.

I am his child and he is confident he has provided me with the proper tools to figure it out.

It is nonetheless, a culture shock and how I have lamented my deliverance to this unfamiliar land. 

I have resisted growth. I have fought and kicked and screamed and begged and yelled at God to listen to my unhappiness. 

And true to my youthful self, I did not want to be sent away for additional schooling.

But I have been forced, yet again, to grow up in an unfamiliar space.

A place which has demanded I surpass my faithful graduate degree in pursuit of a spiritual Ph.D.

And I will because God has no doubt I am on the right path.

 

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