Not Back To School and Other Terrifying Realisations

This coming September is the first Back to School season in seventeen years that I have not had school to look forward to. You read that right, seventeen years of nonstop education. I’ve spent the summer moaning about not working, about being bored of (ha) writing every day and drinking coffee at random times through the work week. I have just in the past week or two settled into the fact that I have not worked this summer and enjoyed it, but now that the fall season is creeping up on me I am finding my B2Skewl anxiety appearing as well.

I want to buy new binders and a pencil case and usb-drives and new jeans and shoes again. It is somewhat liberating to think that this will be the first year in so long that I don’t need those things, but I think I didn’t realize how scary that thought actualy is. This is the truth, right here: despite how busy school has made me in the past, I love learning.

I have decided that I don’t need school in particular to learn, but I need the motivation to learn, and with this acceptance I will continue to learn. I am still looking at courses, the formal education system of course becomes attractive because it looks better on paper than saying “I created a kick-ass play and learned the entire time!” But I plan on doing that as well. I want to create, and make mistakes, and pick myself back up.

One thing that I’ve lost sight of last month and wanted to re-iterate to anyone who may be going back to school or not is that you don’t have to be happy every moment of every day to be happy. I forgot this during the curcial summer months. I wanted to be having spectacular, full experiences so that I could get the most from my summer, but what I have realised is that I needed to take a break, I needed to force myself to stop thinking academically in order to appreciate what I had gone through. This meant that I was not happy every moment, and it is still a hard process, but I appreciate my seventeen-year-long educational journey (it isn’t over let’s be real) and am now appreciating the unique experience of alone-time in my own creativity.

Great things come from unexpected hardships, it seems.

Not saying that not working for a summer is a hardship, but I think the hardest part has been accepting that this was just a part of my journey, and that it may not be over but it is what I do with it that counts. What use is a summer off without beaches, writing, coffee and netflix? Or is that just me?

xx Jess

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