Lily Billingsley: Senior Column

Sixth-grade me was an aggressive rule follower. I prided myself on never getting sent to the safe seat or having my iPad taken away. The thought of opening my time capsule before the very last day of high school probably would’ve made me cry — I was also a crier.

The empty box of oats, decorated poorly by an ill-fitting piece of purple construction paper and block letters saying “Lily’s Time Capsule” — with a heart above the “I” of course — has been tucked away in the back of my closet for the past six years. It’s waited for me to finish high school so I can rip off the excessive amount of scotch tape I used and get a glimpse into my past. But given my lifelong lack of patience and newfound inability to focus on anything school-related mixed with the loss of my constant-rule-following days, I decided two weeks pre-graduation was close enough. 

Except for the fact that I had yet to discover contacts or any hairstyle that wasn’t a giant bun on top of my head, I can’t easily differentiate the 12 and 18-year-old versions of myself. But looking at the rolled-up Pentathlon winner certificates and lists of my favorite foods and movies featured in my time capsule, I saw just how much I’ve changed since my time as a Highlands Hawk. I was a teacher’s pet who actually enjoyed reading and happily showed up to school every day at 7 a.m. to take Pre-Algebra. 

During my elementary days, my career of choice was a food scientist. I was convinced all they did was taste-test ice cream — a goal that quickly went out the window when I blacklisted anything science related from my future after struggling through Honors Chemistry. 

Now, “Communications?” is about as close as I get to determining a dream job and the only books I read are the ones required for English class. I may not grow up to be the lawyer or scientist my sixth-grade self dreamed of, but I’ve found interests in subjects like journalism and marketing and grown the confidence to stick up for myself, even if it means a bad grade or hurt ego along the way. 

If I grow my patience enough to read this column again on my college graduation day, chances are that I’ll roll my eyes looking back on my high-school-aged love for oversized sweatshirts or my overuse of the word “girlboss,” but they’re all a part of my time capsule now. 

So dear future Lily, I may not have done all my homework or been on the honor roll — to the horror of my younger self — but I’m graduating and mentally preparing to abandon my life as I’ve known it. 

Even though I wasn’t always the best student or the smartest in the class, I’ve learned that being perfect is most definitely not the key to success. I’m grateful I got a bit more relaxed with the rule-following over the years — the mistakes I made brought me to a path I wouldn’t change for the world. Catch you on the flip side.