New place, same old friends

This weekend, one of my best friends from high school will descend upon the University of… This weekend, one of my best friends from high school will descend upon the University of Pittsburgh. She’s hailing from College Park, Md., to visit – and I can’t wait.

Despite my excitement, however, I have to consider the fact that this will be her first time literally seeing me in college, so I’m finally being forced to come to terms with the fact that both of us have changed significantly since high school. Surrounded by my new friends and interests, soon to be put in contrast with this returning representation of my high school life, the differences will surely be more noticeable than ever before.

While we do communicate on a regular basis, exchanging stories and talking just as we always have, I have no doubt that in person she will be able to spot even more changes in my personality than those I have noticed.

Am I afraid she won’t like me anymore? No, of course not. But what I do fear is that she’ll spark an identity crisis. Does the fact that I’m far more of a smart-ass now mean that I’ve totally let myself go? Does the fact that I wear makeup on Friday nights instead of sweatpants mean that I’ve become shallow?

I have to stop and remind myself that the answer to both questions, and any other doubts, is a resounding no. It’s not a crime that anyone changes or grows in college, unless the behavior they adapt is dangerous or damaging in some way. But since I haven’t picked up a cocaine addiction or a stalking habit just yet, I can rest assured that my biggest trouble is simply adjusting. It’s tweaking the dynamic of this friendship which hasn’t really faced any major changes in four years.

I’m confident that she’ll accept me for who I’ve become, and I’ll accept her differences as well. I’m not worried that I will lose a friendship by any means. But somehow, even the readjustments matter. We’ll find a way to make it work, but – cue the melodramatic music – things will never truly be the same.

Is that a price we pay, or a gift to accept?

My friend and I now have an opportunity to become even closer than we already are. Outside of my family, she’s the girl that knows me better than anyone – even better than I know myself. But since August, I’ve discovered sides of me that might catch even this expert off-guard. How we handle it is a question that we’ll be forced to answer this weekend, somewhere between all of the hugs and laughter.

I know I’m not alone in facing this issue.

Like many freshmen, I’ve developed character traits and pursued activities that I never did in high school. In Pittsburgh, I take public buses to get anywhere; at home, I can easily walk to school and work (not that I never drove instead). In Pittsburgh, I stay up chatting and giggling until 4 a.m.; at home, I’m safely tucked in my bed by curfew. Whether we want to change or not, we are going to do so. And whether we came to college to experiment, to ultimately (and quite desperately) fear the unknown or just fall somewhere in the middle, we are eventually going to have to reconcile the two worlds we exist in.

It’s impossible to fully and forever separate our lives in college and those we had in high school. In the friendships and relationships that cross over, we are forced to examine ourselves.

I don’t see how it’s possible to view that as anything other than a gift. College keeps us growing. High school – well, the friends we made in it – keeps us anchored.

Yes, there will be challenges to face. She will see me as a different person in some ways, the same old me in others, and we’ll have to work to strike a balance between the two that works for us just as friendship always has. I’m realizing slowly that it’s nothing to dread.

But there’s one aspect of this new lifestyle we’re settling into that should never stress us out. And that’s maintaining past friendships. If we can overcome the battle of keeping in touch – making those phone calls, answering those emails – surely we are capable of allowing friendships to change.

When I head to the bus station this weekend, I won’t be nervous about the observations my friend might make. I eagerly anticipate showing off my dorm, walking around Pittsburgh and strengthening a bond that, without college, would already have peaked.

Not only do I have faith in the two of us specifically, but I trust the entire concept of camaraderie. Being torn apart from old friends in college is difficult, but it’s truly a blessing in disguise.

Carolyn keeps in touch. E-mail her at ceg36@pitt.edu.