At the last minute, I almost decided not to attend my 40-year high school reunion—for a lot of reasons. But instead of taking the easy way out, I decided to do some energy work on my anxieties about showing up. It worked, and I went!
High school is a critical developmental time in our lives. Once we leave, our experiences freeze in our memories with various distortions. I wanted to create new memories and reassess my place among my classmates after four decades. Read on for my reflections as I visited the ghosts of high school past.
Return of the Ugly Duckling
Reflections on my 40-year high school reunion
As Westley would say as he entered the fire swamp (The Princess Bride), "It's not that bad. I'm not saying that I'd like to build a summer home here, but the trees are actually quite lovely." Replace "trees" with "people" and you have my feelings about my 40-year high school reunion.
The last one I attended was 35 years ago as a first-year medical student. People were young and beautiful, with high hopes and a head full of hair, excited about their bright futures. As I stood by the door of the conference room this time, I saw a sea of lined faces, white and balding heads, and a table for many who had passed away.
I sat down at a random table, expecting that I wouldn't recognize anyone, nor would they remember me. It turned out that the couple next to me, Deon and Bill, were wonderful people. We struck up an easy conversation. They had things to talk about: their work, travels, and struggles since high school.
The other couple across the table proudly shared a picture of their first grandchild. We chatted about the joys of being a grandparent and how I can learn vicariously from their experiences.
When I told the couple what I did, the wife asked me if I did massages as part of my holistic practice. She had experience going to a masseuse who "did the same thing" and could "help people get off their medications."
I laughed and said, "No, I don't do massages on my patients. If I did, I'd be in trouble with the medical board!"
Teresa, who was a gorgeous high school cheerleader, came over to say hi. She shared that after high school, she continued to live in Bountiful and then moved to North Salt Lake, about 10 miles south of Bountiful, Utah. She had children (4 or 5?) and now has 11 (?) grandchildren. She asked what I did and I shared a little.
A few minutes later, a woman approached me and said, "Teresa told me that you're a homeopathic psychologist."
I clarified that I was a holistic psychiatrist. She asked what my "go-to" supplement was for helping people with mental health issues.
I summarized 32 years of psychiatric experience by telling her about the eight categories of nutritional support: vitamins, minerals, EFA's, amino acids, GI support, antioxidants, anti-inflammatories, and detoxification. Her eyes glazed over. I think I told her too much.
Then, I found myself distracted by Henry E., now president of BYU Idaho, who came over to chat. He's "Mormon royalty." His father is the second counselor of the presidency of the LDS (Mormon) church. His grandfather was a theoretical chemist with a building named after him at the University of Utah.
We chatted about what he's been up to at BYU Idaho, and he asked me about my move. Henry found a way to compliment me for being smart in front of someone standing by. I joked that he used to say that in high school to get me to help him with calculus. Good times.
Craig T. came over to chat. He still looked very much like his young high school version: same blue eyes, tall and lanky, with sandy-blonde hair. He played basketball, and girls had crushes on him.
He shared that he was waiting for both a pancreas and kidney transplant. Suddenly, the weight of these past 40 years came crashing down. Time has touched happy, friendly Craig after all.
Then, there was Jay, whom I didn't speak to at all. He was surrounded by a wall of men. He looked happy and confident, chatting with everyone. He was the unhappy genius in high school who later went to MIT.
He wore braces back then and the kids at school made him feel different just because he was brilliant. But I liked Jay. Tall, toned, rich, successful, handsome: Jay seems to have it all now. He still sends digital Christmas cards to me each year that his wife writes for him.
I left after a few hours. It was stressful to be there among so many strangers, but it was also therapeutic.
What once mattered no longer matters to me now. I've found my path and my own groove. I am happy with my life and don't mind being different in all the ways that once made me feel alienated and rejected.
Forty years has definitely changed me—for the better. The ugly duckling has grown up. I still don't feel like I belong here, but I don't mind. I've learned that being different can lead to an extraordinary life journey.
The Holistic Psychiatrist Podcast (Ep. 34):
A Clinician in Acupuncture and Oriental Medicine
Shares his Story of Healing and Becoming a Healer
Check out the teaser here.
Over a decade ago, Justin worked with me as a patient to heal from depression, anxiety, and ADHD. Today, he’s an acupuncturist who’s passionate about healing others.
Justin shares his amazing life experiences for the first time in our podcast: what he experienced at his lowest points, how he recovered, and where he is now. Let’s celebrate and enjoy the story of a hero’s journey that led him to embody hope, healing, and empowerment!
Click here for the full episode available on Wednesday.
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