Everyone tells you that growing up is hard, the teenage years are rough, and that it really gets better after high school. So when it turned out that my high school years were indeed horrendous, I was praying that things would get better. And they absolutely did.

Don’t get me wrong, high school is a necessary evil. All of your peers are struggling and it turns out to be four long, awkward years of self-discovery played out on a stage in front of everyone you know. I come from a small town where everyone knows everyone, which meant my life was never really hidden from public eye. As someone who was also very outspoken and slightly rebellious, my town certainly liked to talk about me.

In high school I was known for a few things. I went through a communist phase, which was not seen as thought-provoking in my high school but instead as ridiculous and unpatriotic. I liked to travel and see my country from an international perspective which prompted a lot of “so get out of this country” feedback that was not the best way to simply get through high school.

I dated a guy from another country, I stayed with his family and he stayed with mine and you would have thought I had the worst reputation in my high school. Rumors were spread, tweets were shared and my mom got quite an earful from the town gossips.

My already quirky personality in a sea of Lululemon and J. Crew simply didn’t fit in. Multiple mental health issues compounded, I tried to switch schools, and I got in more than my fair share of fights with the high school faculty.

So as I came back from Thanksgiving break my Freshman year of college, my friends wanted to walk back through the high school as legends. Those who finally made it out, the bigshots among the students and teachers, bragging about their fantastic first months of college.

I refused, and still do. That school has every bad memory for a four year period of my life tethered to one location. I know my life is incredible now. I have amazing friends, fascinating classes, the coolest city to live in, and a roommate that not only tolerates me but is my other half in this college experience. I couldn’t be happier.

I have no need to revisit the awkward, immature, confused version of myself from years ago when I have grown to be what I think is a pretty interesting human being. And I know my life has only gotten better and more fulfilling as I push for what I want and not what the mob mentality of high school students said I should be. I don’t need to prove to anyone that I’ve made it and I don’t need to go back to the place where I fell apart over and over again.

Goodbye Scituate High School and hello to the rest of my life.