The 35 Year Old Undergrad Student

I am about to be a 35-year-old college graduate. Not the 35-year-old that graduated from college 10 years ago. Thousands fit that. Millions fit that. But not me. I am the 35-year-old that messed around for years and finally got it together and is going to be walking across the stage to receive my very first Bachelor’s degree a good 13 years older than most of the rest. I am finally doing it.
 I graduated high school with full academic scholarships to every school I applied to. I was at the top of my graduating class. I looked like I had it together. I was supposed to go to college and become a doctor or a lawyer or a teacher or something. Anything. But that didn’t happen. I did go to school — for a year. Then I met a guy and fell into a horribly abusive relationship that lasted 5 years. During this time, I would take a class here or there but mostly, I couldn’t do what I needed. Then I got my life together and met an amazing man and got married and moved all over the country and built a career as a professional photographer.
 Each step, I knew I wanted my degree. I planned to have it by 28, then by 30, then before 35. The problem was that I moved so much that I couldn’t build enough credits without having to repeat the same classes and spend even more money. Oh, and I constantly dropped classes in my younger years. For this reason, my grades suffered. I don’t really think I was ready. You know, my Friend tells me that things happen when they’re supposed to happen. That what is meant for me, will be.
 So, in a few days, I’ll be 35. I’m half way through my final semester as an undergrad. I am overjoyed that I am going to be able to tick one more thing off the list. I’m doing it because Monica does it.

Love always, Monica

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