FROM THE ARCHIVES: 4 Tips to Overcome Post-Grad Regret

We've published hundreds of stories from 100+ writers in the last three years, so we're highlighting some of these timeless posts in our new From the Archives series. Enjoy!

Just as you can imagine, college graduation season is packed with all the emotions. You feel relief, excitement, stress and pride. The emotion most people don’t associate with graduation and what I didn’t expect to feel, though, is regret.

You may regret not taking that psychology course or not studying abroad. You may regret not eating well or never exercising. You may regret joining only two campus organizations or wasting too much time on that guy or girl (who you now secretly hope dies alone).

No matter what your regrets are, the feeling is toxic. And yes, everything happens for a reason, your experiences make you who you are and there is a larger plan for your life. We have all heard these encouragements during our college years, but no one offers tangible methods for coping with post-grad regret.

So here’s four things that I did that I found helpful:

1. Log off of social media for one month. This forced me to stop comparing my college experience to that of my peers, and instead focus on what made my past four years uniquely wonderful. Reminder: your Facebook friends only post their best college moments and those cool Instagram photos have a filter. Social media can become a black hole of comparison followed by instant regret. Be careful out there.

2. Email a graduation announcement with a section for responses. I emailed a simple online card to thank people for the support over the past four years and didn’t realize how much I needed to hear their responses. Heartfelt praise and congratulations from bosses, mentors and family are a surefire way to feel better about not taking that psychology course. I can attest.

3. Write about it. When I say “write,” I actually mean, “Furiously pound your keyboard until you have a three page long Word document titled ‘venting.’” In college and in life, sometimes you make mistakes you immediately regret. Things happen and you learn from them, but you cannot allow yourself to linger. Instead, write about it and move on.

4. Ignore the millennial stereotype. Our generation has pressure to have perfect grades, take part in at least 10 student organizations, receive every award and then graduate from college with a jam-packed resume and a job waiting on you. A college student can only do so much before exploding from exhaustion. Ignore the pressure, stop focusing on what you didn’t do in college and instead celebrate your accomplishments.

You may have regrets, but you know what? You just graduated from college. You survived dorm rooms, crazy roommates, insanely hard exams, tedious projects and casual dating. That is a huge accomplishment and you deserve to be proud.

[This post was originally published May 13, 2015.]

sale

Windrose Magazine Issue 2

$5.00 $18.00

BUY 1, GET… AS MANY AS YOU WANT!

Windrose Magazine is your guide to navigating life in your twenties through a collection of essays, interviews, and advice that will inspire you to chart your own life course, free of comparison.

PLEASE NOTE: We can only ship within the United States. We still love our international friends, promise!

Magazine ships from our HQ within 7-10 business days of order. All sales final.

INVENTORY SALE: Buy 1 copy, get … as many as you want! Yes, really. We will contact you after purchase through the email you submit during the checkout process to confirm how many copies you would like.

Please note that orders of 10+ copies will incur additional shipping fees. Order limits are subject to remaining inventory count.

Quantity:

Add To Cart

Featured

The End of An Era: Saying Goodbye to Windrose

Hi friends,

Announcement (sounds so formal, doesn’t it?):

It's the end of an era.

I’ve decided that, after nearly 8 years of telling stories of navigating life, this season of Windrose is drawing to a close.

Even Here: Words for When You're Wandering

When I was 22 years old, I visited the desert for the first time.

A metaphorical desert, if we’re getting technical.

I was fresh out of college, starry-eyed and eager to begin my post-grad life. I had big ‘ole me-centered dreams: a shiny, brag-worthy PR job in the music industry! An apartment with an exposed brick wall that (somehow) would fit an upright piano! A committed relationship with a kind, goofy man!

I got exactly none of those things.

To summarize an entire year’s worth of emotion: I was devastated.

What is Home?

Late last night, I flew back into town after a week away, the city lights covering the Valley like a blanket of incandescent flowers. I’ve flown into Phoenix at least a dozen times at this point. Usually, I can identify a handful of landmarks, like my antenna-scarred South Mountain or the twinkling lights of the bridges spanning Tempe Town Lake.

Flying into Nashville, however, was always different.

I Don't Live Here Anymore

I recently returned to Nashville for the first time since moving to Phoenix five months ago.

Before my reunion, I often said that the word “home” could apply to both Nashville and Phoenix. Nashville is my home. Phoenix is my home. I could find that home-sweet-home feeling in both cities.

During my 8 days back, I frequented my old haunts. The brickwalled coffee shop still serves the meanest mocha in town. The hillside winery still proves to be a worthwhile spot to sip away a sunny Sunday afternoon. The hip burger joint still offers a lovely evening to dine with friends, new and old. The lime-green Mexican restaurant on the corner of Whitebridge still feels like a queso-soaked refuge.

There were many “stills,” but there were changes, too.

Why did you move?

A cardstock print sits propped against the lamp on my desk: a taupe watercolor swipe outlining a peakside Saguaro, the sun a tiny ring above. Beneath this minimalist illustration are these words in typeface: “I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.”

I happened upon this notecard-sized print on the way out of a shop last weekend, after already having completed another purchase. It was the last print of its kind in the pile. I had to have it. I returned to the cashier: “This one, too.”

You see, this verse has been a thread weaving through my story, simple words spoken by a prophet long dead, a passage of comfort I’ve returned to again and again since my pilgrimage to the desert four years ago, when I inked a cactus on my wrist.

The Good Old Days

Last week was National Margarita Day.

I did not, however, celebrate the holiday. Truthfully, I’ve yet to find THE Mexican place here in Phoenix. You know the one: gaudy decorations, cheap food, even cheaper margaritas.

But there’s a Mexican restaurant at the corner of Charlotte and Whitebridge in Nashville, TN.

You may have heard of it.

Witching Hour (or, Fighting Off Demons at 3 am with a Box Cutter)

Between the hours of 3 - 4 am, I find myself awakened by nothing in particular. The room is silent. There is no sound outside. No loud car horns. No dogs barking.

I’m upset.

I wish it was something other than just me. Then I could stop it. Nothing is to blame. It feels like moments have passed since I closed my eyes. The moments of a long dreamless sleep last about 4 hours.

10 Life Lessons This Cross-Country Move is Attempting to Teach Me

There are a few lessons life has attempted to teach me since my move — all things that I haven’t yet spiced up into a full essay, but deserve to be memorialized by my metaphorical pen nonetheless.

So I present a collection of lessons I’ve learned — and am still learning — in the last 3 months.

What Will Your Life Look Like?

Tomorrow marks 3 months.

Three months here, sharing a zip code with Saguaros.

“So how is Phoenix?” a friend asked me over the phone as I sat on my balcony beneath glowing string lights, a pour of raspberry wine in my hand. The sun was setting, painting the eastern mountains with rosy swipes of redemption.

How has Phoenix been these last three months?

What is it Trying to Tell You, if Only You’d Listen?

I went on a date recently. Two glasses of Riesling, pleasant conversation, and a perfectly amicable guy — it was an altogether fine evening.

However, I wasn’t interested in a second date.

Not because of any run-for-the-hills red flags. Not because I didn’t think he was cute. Not because we didn’t get along. I simply — wasn’t interested.

There’s no better way to explain it. No fear-based avoidance of the potential for a healthy relationship. No disdain for commitment that needs a heavy round of therapy to work through. Nothing deeper than the inner sense that a second date just wasn’t necessary.

But, I said yes to getting dinner again with him.

The Other Side of Yes

I’m a No Girl.

In many ways, this is a good thing. I’m able to confidently decline invitations that disinterest me.

“Want to go whitewater rafting?” No thank you, I’m comfy right here on the bank.

“Want to do a shot?” No thank you, I’ll take my liquor with lime juice and Triple Sec, plz.

“Want to try this carrot cake?” No thank you, Harry, I can’t eat gluten.

“Want to go to Broadway?” No thank you, I’d prefer to go to bed.

In many ways, however, being a No Girl originates less from personal boundaries and more from fear. Fear and I happen to be pretty tight; we talk on the daily. Fear has been the primary consultant for many of my life decisions, in fact.

A Song for Growth

A year ago, a friend of mine got a job at a well known tech company. He had been slogging through the interviews, and he finally got an offer. Obviously he deserved it. He was a hard worker, and his attitude for success and life was admirable to say the least. I knew he was beyond qualified.

But at the time, I was on a career path I couldn’t see myself being happy in. I had made the mistake of staying in the industry mainly for the money. Every month in the industry was a reminder of how much I did not want to stay. It created a nasty cycle of overthinking and career angst. Feelings of inadequacy and existentialism rooted themselves deep inside me. I couldn’t focus on anything and was utterly disconnected from the work I was doing.

I admit I wasn’t happy for him.

Graduation, HealthArielle SchraderAugust 1, 2018Featured, From the ArchivesComment

FROM THE ARCHIVES: 4 Tips to Overcome Post-Grad Regret

We've published hundreds of stories from 100+ writers in the last three years, so we're highlighting some of these timeless posts in our new From the Archives series. Enjoy!

So here’s four things that I did that I found helpful:

BUY 1, GET… AS MANY AS YOU WANT!

magazine Blog

Contact SUBMIT