“[Michele]: Remember the prom? You got so thin by then. [Romy]: Oh, I know. I was so lucky getting mono. That was like the best diet ever.” – Romy & Michele’s High School Reunion

There are certain events in my life that elicit deep introspection including milestone birthdays, weddings, memorials, and traveling to new places. Ok, for me, a lot of events cause a long, hard look in the mirror, but there’s a particular type that I think has this effect on most everyone: high school reunions.

This past weekend, the Class of 1993 from Mission Viejo High School (Go Diablos!) got together to celebrate 30 years since our graduation, so I got my catalyzing event. And it did not disappoint.

Leading up to the reunion, friends shared about feeling nostalgic while others felt anxious. I didn’t start listening to old 90’s music and watching classics like “Say Anything” like some, but I did a lot of reflecting on who I was and who I’m becoming. (For the record, I hear the movie still stands up.)

I’m lucky enough to still call many of my classmates friends today. After all, high school is a unique time when our peers get a glimpse into the deepest thing that shapes us – our families (or lack thereof). We entered each others’ homes and spaces. We saw parents get divorced and change jobs. We saw siblings struggle with addiction or succeed at the highest levels. I didn’t know myself well back then, but I trusted that these people would cheer me on and have my back. And they did. My group of friends was by no means perfect, but we made high school a positive experience that launched our trajectories of becoming husbands and wives, moms and dads, educators, doctors, therapists, lawyers, business people, and everything in between.

Since high school, there have been many old stories I’ve had to wrestle to the ground. Stories around worth and belonging – two core wounds that have been the focus of my healing journey even in recent years. Especially in recent years.

I thought about these growth edges and how a reunion is like a petri dish for testing a theory: is who I say I want to be actually who I am today?

Would I fall into old patterns of people pleasing? Who did I feel excited about seeing and why? What did I hope to get out of attending?

All these questions swirled in my mind leading up to reunion weekend, but on the night itself, I felt nothing but gratitude.

I didn’t feel the need to emotionally manage anyone else’s experience (hallelujah!). I talked to only those I really wanted to and gleefully avoided others (hooray!). I felt compassion instead of judgement for those who were clearly struggling – alcohol is a remover of masks, after all (bless). And I confirmed good boundaries when they were needed.

Getting to attend something like a 30-year high school reunion is a privilege I don’t take for granted. I was reminded of the classmates who have already passed well before I expected or imagined. I was able to spend quality time with some of my closest friends. And most importantly, I realized I have forgiven high-school-Rachel and all the versions in between for my failures and shortcomings. For me, forgiveness was the first step to the most important reunion of all: the one with my true self.

[Photo: A centerpiece from the reunion made by a talented classmate]