That In-Between Girl

It has been just over two months since I graduated from college. That beautiful Sunday in May will forever live in my mind as one of the proudest and most surreal moments of my life, unfolding before me as if in slow motion. I remember getting up [very] early, getting dressed, taking photos with my roommates, and all of us scurrying out the door of our apartment for the last time as undergraduates. I can still envision the long walk up to the commencement site; flanked by tall trees that have seen many graduates off into their futures, I recalled the first time I ever trekked that path. It was the day of my freshman-year orientation. I was nervous, shy and overwhelmed by the heat of that 90+ degree day, the exhaustion of walking around the hilly campus, and the sheer newness of it all.

And then there I was, walking that same path four years later, donning a graduation cap and gown with four honor cords around my neck to mark the culmination of my academic efforts. As I thought about my time there, we continued to process toward our final destination; I saw professors who turned into mentors and friends, hugging me and cheering me on as I was walking toward the edge of the proverbial nest, ready to jump and test my wings. "Pomp and Circumstance" began, my fellow graduates and I continued onward, past family and friends and toward our final destination: the stage we'd have to cross to get that all-important piece of paper. It was finally my turn; I crossed the stage, shook hands, reached for my diploma, and walked back to my seat. Just like that, my undergraduate career was over.

This moment feels like it was both yesterday and ages ago — a dream. An ephemeral moment that only happened in my imagination. Yet, I know intellectually that it's all over. There are some people I will likely never see again, while there are others that I already miss more than my heart can take. In many ways, I also miss who I was then; I miss feeling necessary, as if every day I was on a mission that was my job to complete. I miss waking up in the morning and knowing that my day was going to be full of twists, turns, challenges, and triumphs — how funny it is that I now long for the very thing that I would sometimes complain about!

I presume this desire for a purpose is in full bloom now because I do not yet have a job, one of the most difficult things I currently face. Day after day, I apply to countless positions, and day after day, I get no response, leaving me stranded in the vast expanse of an unknown future. It forces me to acknowledge that I am no longer "That University Girl," but instead "That In-Between Girl," stuck in the not-quite, the not-yet, the might-be.

It's difficult for someone like me — someone who thrives on definites, 100-percents, concretes — to accept being in a place that is indefinite, murky, and unsettled. Part of me tries to maintain hope, to stay positive as I await my next adventure; but the more I am greeted by inaction, I grow increasingly anxious that being in this in-between state will become permanent. That the promise that I graduated with will dissipate, and the rest of my life will never get started. That I will always just be hoping for something that will never come.

In many ways, I am reminded of the play by Samuel Beckett, "Waiting for Godot." In "Godot," the two main characters perpetually await the arrival of Godot, who ultimately never makes an appearance. What if I am Vladimir or Estragron, the duo who anticipate Godot's arrival, and the career and the life I so crave — my Godot — never show up? What if I am left wondering what could have happened, what could have been for the rest of my life?

Maybe I am just being dramatic. Maybe one day, I will read this post again, laugh, and go back to my wonderful job and my wonderful life. Maybe everything I could every want is right around the corner. Maybe my story won't be like Beckett's fictional tale. Maybe my Godot will actually show up.

I hope so — and soon.

XO,

That In-Between/University/Job-hunting Girl