This week I’ve been trying to unpack my intrusive thoughts about the upcoming reunion. To be honest, I feel more chore than joy. My high school years never felt like a space where I belonged. The clearest example was the religion teacher who doubled as the student organization’s counselor. He openly said the organization would only accept students from religion ABC. Other religions were out. I was shortlisted as a representative for my class, but in the end I wasn’t chosen. Maybe I wasn’t good enough, but watching another student with a different religion get in while that rule was still spoken out loud felt off.
The same teacher also used participation points as a threat. If you didn’t take part in events run by the student organization, you risked getting your grades docked. Looking back now, that is power abuse. It was exclusion dressed up as authority.
So I asked myself if I’m being petty for still feeling this after 25 years.
The answer is no. These memories stuck because they touched identity, fairness and belonging. They were early experiences of being told you don’t fit their mold.
The trigger came back because the alumni started a 25-year reunion group on WhatsApp. I was fine in my small class chat. Then everything merged into a big community where only the moderators speak and everyone else can only reply. My WhatsApp desktop kept lighting up even on mute. I archived the whole thing out of irritation.
This also brought back a few other layers.
I wasn’t the trophy student. Academic achievement was the currency there.
Many classmates came from wealthy families. Many studied abroad.
The environment ran on comparison and hierarchy. Once the reunion chat appeared, the old dynamic resurfaced. One chat group and I felt rage and unfinished business bubbling up.
Thinking back, I kept brushing off the red flags. I tried to blend in by shrinking how I felt.
I’ve also noticed that reunions often become performance events. People highlight how well life turned out, not the joy of reconnecting. It becomes a scoreboard instead of a gathering.
So I asked myself a simple question.
Do I actually want to meet these people again
For what purpose
What value do I get from it
These questions matter more than tradition. Reunions are optional. Peace is not.
By modern day standards, when I look back, there were many red flags. The system was not kind, not fair, and not inclusive. I grew up fine despite not fitting their mold (thankfully). The old me thought I should attend. Show support. Fit in. Avoid trouble.
If I answer honestly now, I would not go. A large reunion drains me. I feel close only to my own class and a few people outside it. Joining a big group takes too much energy and offers nothing back.
I am not the student I was. I am comfortable with who I am now. I don’t need to force myself into places that never felt right, and I feel no connection to the wider school group.
