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A couple of days ago, I was sitting in my German class when the announcements came on. This is usually my cue to open my computer and check Canvas or my email account to make sure I’m updated on everything.
As I was clicking around, my friend glanced over at my screen and started to give me a funny look. She turned her computer around so I could see, and her inbox was completely clear while I had a little less than 5,000 emails in mine.
I felt a little embarrassed and went to delete every single one.
When I was just one click away from doing it, I stopped. I couldn’t bring myself to delete anything, especially after I realized I still had emails all the way back from when I first got my email account in elementary school.
Those beginning emails were just innocent hellos to all my friends, then they slowly went to quarantine, when my friends and I would swap stories and poetry we had tried to write, and other sweet exchanges, like asking if they wanted to hop on a Zoom call around noon so we could have lunch together.
As I got closer and closer to my present inbox, they turned into actual emails. Things about college, the ACT and other deadlines and responsibilities. When did that sudden change happen?
I’ve been struggling more and more with the fact that everything around me has changed all of a sudden. For me, growing up isn’t scary because of the future, but because of the things I quietly lose along the way.
All my siblings are in college, and this is the first year I have been the only one at my house. These are supposed to be my “freedom years,” where I get the car to myself and hang out with my friends all the time. But, seeing as I can’t drive yet, I’d rather just have all my siblings back, playing trivia games at dinner.
People are always telling me the importance of letting things go. To not dwell on the past and focus on the future. But the past, even the bad things, the things we would rather not think about, like the losses, bad grades and bad choices, can help shape who we are today.
Maybe there is value in holding onto the things that don’t make us stuck, but the things that remind us of who we have been and who we can be.
I chose not to delete those emails. I’m not ready to let go of even those awkward emails filled with emojis I sent to my friends back in fourth grade.
Growing up proves that change is inevitable, but it doesn’t mean we have to delete the evidence of the fact that we were all just trying to figure things out at one point.
\Maybe, instead of choosing to delete the old parts of ourselves we want to forget, we should choose to make peace with them instead. It won’t be easy, and it will take time, but if the end result is internal peace with ourselves, maybe it’s worth a try.