There are two distinct types of people: those who keep boxes brimming with high school yearbooks and memorabilia, and those who opt to toss them straight into the garbage. I belong to the latter group, and I stand by my choice without a hint of regret.
Over a decade ago, I made the decision to throw away what I believe was the last of my high school yearbooks. If there happens to be another one lurking around, well, Mom, feel free to dispose of that one too.
This doesn’t imply that I lack sentimentality or that I don’t cherish memories from my past. I have plenty of photographs, along with a couple of boxes filled with newspaper clippings, swimming medals, and graduation cards. The key difference between these items and my yearbooks is that I personally selected them. I determined which memories to keep and cherish. These collections were put together with not just nostalgia, but with intention.
I also don’t wish to erase my past or the people from it. In fact, some of my closest friendships span over 35 years. I’ve even reconnected with old classmates in exciting and meaningful ways.
The reality is, I am not the person I was in high school—not even close. None of us truly are. While some can let go of past regrets and hold onto the good times, I find it challenging. I don’t want to be reminded of the guy who made me uncomfortable or the girl who teased me back in the day. I certainly don’t want to see reminders of bad hairstyles or notes from ex-boyfriends or “friends” who weren’t really friends at all.
Now, don’t get me wrong; I didn’t have a traumatic childhood. My adolescence in the ‘90s was fairly typical, filled with homecomings, proms, and Friday night football games. There were, of course, embarrassing moments that made me want to hide away forever, but I’ve moved past them.
At my core, I am not who I was then. Growing up in a small, conservative town in Wisconsin shaped me, but as I reflect on those years, I recognize there’s a lot I’m not proud of. My yearbooks became a source of shame that I felt needed to be thrown out. Good riddance.
Some might ask, “Don’t you want your kids to have these memories of you?” My answer is a resounding NO. Each of us has the power to control our own narrative, and discarding my yearbooks is my way of reclaiming mine. Those yearbooks are more a testament to my environment than to who I am today.
The keepsakes I wish to pass down to my children and, hopefully, grandchildren are the ones I choose to hold onto. We all change and grow—at least, that’s the goal, right? We strive to become better versions of ourselves. While some people find comfort in reminders from their past, I prefer to be intentional about what I carry forward. If that means tossing my yearbooks in the trash, I’m perfectly fine with that.
If you’re interested in more insights on home insemination, check out this other blog post here. For authoritative information on fertility topics, visit here. Additionally, for excellent resources on pregnancy and home insemination, check out this link.
Search Queries:
- how to self inseminate at home
- best home insemination methods
- understanding fertility treatments
- tips for successful insemination
- home insemination kits reviews
In summary, my choice to discard my high school yearbooks was a conscious decision rooted in the desire to curate my memories intentionally. I believe in focusing on the keepsakes that truly represent who I am today, rather than relics of a past I prefer to move beyond.