It is no coincidence that I had this dream just a few days after finishing finals, after hitting the halfway mark of my college career. It wasn’t until I awoke from this nightmare that I realized I had not given myself the time to process the loss of the last few months of sophomore year and the fear of what lies ahead. ּBetween online classes, working at Andy’s, and adjusting to a new life in Marin, I did not allow myself to be sad. I am a person who always looks at the glass half full. When I had to come home from a school that I love with all my heart early, I thought to myself, “well at least I can get a job,” and “at least I can spend valuable time with my family.” But I was so busy trying to see the good, that I forgot how to be sad. I didn’t give myself the space to cry, to listen to Rivers and Roads while staring out the window, to think about what could have been.
When I was a freshman in high school, I started cognitive behavioral therapy to treat separation anxiety. At the start of the year I could not spend one night away from parents without panic attacks and a come pick me up call. But by the end of the year I got on a bus to a five day overnight in Los Angeles with my school. And a year later (after a lot more therapy) I went to Nicaragua with URJ Mitzvah Corps. But even then, never in my wildest dreams, could I have imagined attending a university 4,000 miles away from my parents. It took hard work to get myself to Wesleyan and I am grateful and proud of myself everyday that I put in that work, to live independently and create my own little world away from the Jewish Bay Area that had been my home for so many years.
Wesleyan has been the absolute best place for me. Orientation was really, really hard and the adjustment back to campus after breaks was always a challenge but overall, I had pretty much gotten this whole living independently thing down. And then after Thanksgiving Break of my Sophomore year, my mental health went south. I had panic attacks like I had never felt before and couldn’t do the things that had been so simple and enjoyable just weeks or even days earlier. All I wanted was to be home, watching Netflix in the living room with my parents. It got so bad that my incredible mother flew out to Connecticut to get me through what felt like the longest finals week in the world. But then I came home for Winter break. And I got better. I started taking anti-anxiety meds. I read self help books, ran everyday, and I learned for the first time what real self-care feels like. I went back to campus in January a stronger version of myself. And it was glorious. I enjoyed every midnight drive to the 24 hour diner, every late night in the library, and country music, smoothie blending mornings with my roommate. Things were so good that I even went to Spain for Spring Break with two of my best friends. I had never been more independent in my life. There is no version of my past self that could have imagined future Shayna having the courage and friends to go on such an adventure.
And then I had to say goodbye. To Spain, to Wesleyan, to my friends, and to my independence. There were days in my first week of orientation, or even this past December, that I would have given anything for a global pandemic to send me home to the loving arms of my parents. But on March 12th, 2020, I was not ready to say goodbye. But say goodbye I did, to the pink sheets that my grandma bought for me, the gold polka dotted comforter that my mom and I found at Target, and the pillows that have seen tears and smiles and hugs and friends.
I wish I hadn’t had to say goodbye. But I am so grateful to miss that place in the middle of nowhere Connecticut. The tears that will eventually fall and the sadness that remains for the memories never made, are signs of courage, of growth, of a woman unafraid.
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