“All anyone ever talks to me about
is London! Not everything revolves around the fact that I’m leaving! I have had
a life here for the past 6 months, and I will for another month!” I found
myself exclaiming to my mother, across the table, in a corner booth at Panera.
Since my last post, a lot of things
have changed. I graduated from the University of Michigan with a B.S. in
Movement Science. I’ve had a plethora of jobs, in various environments, ranging
from restaurants to an employee wellness program. In addition, I have decided
to begin working on my Dance/Movement Psychotherapy M.A. at Goldsmiths
University of London, this fall. The program is two years long, and I would describe
what the field of study is all about, but I am honestly so sick of explaining
it to people, that I will leave it for another post. I like my dad’s short and
sweet phrase, “It’s physical therapy for the mind.”
My impending move to London is
progressively becoming the primary topic of conversation between me and my
family and friends. I’ve heard all the “wannabes” coo over how jealous they are;
heard my supportive friends tell me how “awesome” it is; heard even the declarations
of some that they will visit me before my two years abroad is through. I’ve
dealt with the concerned parent conversations, and checklist making for things
I need to do in Detroit with my brother before I leave. By far, the most
difficult conversations have been the fleeting ones, with the least words spoken. These moments, with only the people closest to me, tend to happen
while sitting on porches, soaking in summer nights. Sometimes, it only
consists of two sentences:
“I’m leaving.”
“I know.”
This exchange seems to have an incalculable
weight, despite the fact that MOST people are leaving. This is the nature of
the summer after graduating college. People go off to grad school, get real
jobs, get fake jobs, move back in with their parents, or any combination of
these. While slipping the keys to my apartment into the landlord’s drop box, I
was forced to acknowledge that I was surrendering my last piece of undergrad
life to a little golden mail slot. Everything is changing. Everyone is
changing. It’s time for me to move on.
