Long Story Short // Coping with Change

When deciding on my Halloween costume, I wanted something cheap, original and fun. After hours of doomscrolling on Pinterest, I saw a costume from the movie “Ladybird,” directed by Greta Gerwig and starring Saoirse Ronan. This particular outfit — a gray skirt, black tank top and a pink arm cast — appears in one of the first scenes of the movie. In this scene, the titular character Ladybird starts arguing with her mom about going to college, and out of frustration, she jumps out of the moving car. 

Only having to spend $7 on Amazon buying pink gauze, which I did in fact return, I was able to style this costume just using pieces from my already existing wardrobe. While walking to my friend’s house to take photos together, a stranger stopped me in the street to ask if my costume was from “Ladybird,” filling me with a sense of accomplishment. 

After arriving and discovering that most people did not know what my costume was, we walked together to head to a party. On the way there, we began discussing “Ladybird,” with someone making the comment that they didn’t know how I could dress up as a character in such a depressing movie. 

“No, it’s not depressing! The movie just feels so close to my life, where it ends on such a hopeful note that everything will be OK,” I said. 

The subject being dropped a little bit later, I eventually forgot about the conversation as the night went on. But the next morning, as I filled out the Amazon return request, so many scenes from the movie just started to replay in my head. 

The film starts off with a teenage girl from Sacramento, California, who desperately wants to leave her hometown. She eventually does fulfill her wishes — going to college on the East Coast. While doing so, she burns an already complicated relationship with her mother, but progressively throughout the movie realizes how much love she had for her life. 

Coming into college, I wanted to go somewhere far, far away from the small town of Mars, Pennsylvania. I longed for a large city with culture, where I could be anything and anybody. I had sweatshirts from Harvard, Columbia, Northwestern, just a school that seemed so much bigger than the little high school I went to. 

Alas, applications rolled in, and while I did get into some of these schools, I forgot about one factor — costs. Looking at the numbers, the realization began to sink in that there was only one school I could afford — Pitt. 

At first glance, Pitt had many of the factors I wanted in a school. In a city? Check. Large school? Check. Good political science program? Check. Only issue was that it was 40 minutes away from my hometown. 

Driving away from Mars and moving into college for the first time is something I will probably never forget. All of a sudden, this big school felt huge, and Mars, Pennsylvania, so much further than I thought. 

Coming home a couple weekends after, I stared out the car’s window looking at the scenery I had never cared to notice. The skyline of downtown Pittsburgh buzzing by. The busy shopping center you pass on your way in, always filled with people. Lastly, as you pull into my neighborhood, the changing autumnal trees, filled with those blazing red and yellow leaves we never really seem to see in Oakland. 

Pulling into my driveway, I realized how much love I had for the life I tried so hard to leave. The Friday night football games with friends and our late night Sheetz runs, seeing my family and pets every day and knowing the names of all my classmates and teachers. 

It felt similar to the ending of “Ladybird,” when she realizes her love for her family and Sacramento but is stuck far away. While some can interpret this as a depressing note, I see it as her letting go of the grudge and hate that she had for the small-town and helicoptered life, realizing that it wasn’t so bad after all while moving on to the next chapter of her life. 

As of now, I have so much adoration for the weirdly named town of Mars. Not many places have a mascot of the Fightin’ Planets and the main attraction of a spaceship in the center square. I think about these fondly, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a new love for the place I am now, and for everywhere I hope to be in the future. 

Waking up, I love the hustle and bustle of walking down Fifth, going to class. I love that I’ve been able to see all these political events, concerts and shops that Mars didn’t have. I love waking up to the sound of the city — pretty much just construction at this point. I love that while I may not know the names of everyone in my 200 person lecture, I do know the person sitting next to me very well. 

Whenever I leave this place, I am 100% confident I will have a couple weeks of full-blown nostalgia, remembering everything left behind. Life is so full of changes, and I have learned that I can’t be scared of them or wish something else was happening, but accept it for what it is. 

Ladybird was once so desperate to leave her hometown that she jumped out of a moving car, feeling stifled by her life. While there was a time when I wanted more than anything than to jump out of my Subaru and run away to New York City, now I take every view for what it is. Leaving Mars made me realize just how fast time goes and to take and remember each and every little moment.