Lunchtime Walks

I walk almost every day over my lunch break. To be honest, I probably wouldn’t even take a lunch break if I didn’t have to. Somehow, working through it and snacking at my desk sounds more appealing than stopping and prolonging the day. But, nevertheless, I digress.

I put my headphones on, close my office door, and head down the stairs and out into the bustling heart of campus, taking a moment to admire the fiery reds and golden yellows of the autumn foliage. The crisp air and rhythm of my steps feel grounding, a small act of ownership in a world that often feels dictated by schedules, expectations, and the pace of everyone else’s lives.

Observing Autonomy

Working on a college campus has its perks. I’m surrounded by a highly intelligent, diverse, and genuinely welcoming group of people. I’m in the trenches with students just beginning their journey of understanding themselves and exploring their own autonomy. Every day, I get to see how their ideas evolve, how they assert independence, and how they wrestle with the choices that shape who they are. Observing this reminds me why I take my walks. Not just for fresh air, but to reflect on my own path, my own identity, and the freedom to live it my way.

Finding My Anthem

One particular afternoon, I was listening to Conan Gray‘s new album Wishbone, and the song My World came on. I first jumped on the Conan Gray train when Heather came out, and I’ve been an interested fan ever since. His music has always had a way of capturing emotions and experiences that feel universal, and this new album hit me in all the right ways, making me relate deeply to the feelings he channels so effortlessly.

In fact, I even walk differently when the chorus comes on. Slightly taller, more deliberate, more present in my own skin. The song reminds me of the importance of claiming my own space, moving through life on my own terms, and making choices that feel true to me.

“But Why? It’s my world, and it’s my life”

All my life, I’ve been a people-pleaser. Shaping myself to fit what others expected, letting their opinions define me more than my own desires. There were times I defined myself by who I was with rather than who I truly was. But hearing My World makes me want to flaunt it, strut my stuff like I’m in a music video, toss my hair like I have zero cares in the world, and silently tell myself, Yep, I’m finally living life on my own terms. No one gets to dim my light, not even that one person who always gives unsolicited advice about my “life choices.” Honestly, if I could moonwalk while sipping a Red Bull, I probably would.

Reflections on Youth and Autonomy

As I walk past groups of students laughing, debating, and figuring out who they are, I can’t help but smile. I see glimpses of my younger self in them. The tentative steps toward independence, the small victories, and the inevitable missteps. Their journeys remind me that autonomy isn’t a single moment of declaration. It’s a practice, a series of choices, and sometimes, a bold hair flip in the middle of the quad.

Even with decades of experience and the responsibilities of adult life, there’s something liberating about these walks. The music, the crisp air, the vibrant leaves all serve as a reminder that owning your world, your joy, and your choices is timeless. I imagine the students watching me strut past, probably wondering what on earth I’m doing, and I smile to myself. This is exactly the point: life is too short to shrink, too fleeting to dim your own light, and far too precious not to claim even the smallest moments of joy and self-expression.

“It’s my world and it’s my time, I’ll waste it how I might like“

Of course, I can’t claim every lyric as directly reflective of my own life. After all, Conan Gray isn’t writing for a 44-year-old mom. But man, I wish the music I grew up with carried these stark feelings of resistance to the socially constructed walls we’ve built so high in today’s world. I’m grateful that the music of today doesn’t shy away from shouting autonomy, self-expression, and acceptance.

In my generation, we tried so hard to fit in, to blend, to suppress the very differences that made us unique. Listening to this new wave of music feels validating in a way I didn’t fully experience as a teenager. It’s loud, unapologetic, and utterly fearless. An anthem for anyone who’s ever felt pressure to dim themselves, conform, or hide their true colors. And hearing it now, even decades later, reminds me that claiming your joy, your choices, and your voice isn’t just for the young. It’s for anyone willing to own their world, their way.

A Tribute to My Younger Self

So yes, I’m probably not the typical Conan Gray fan, but sometimes music doesn’t have to be made for you to resonate with you. This album hit me in unexpected ways, stirring memories, longings, and that restless energy to live authentically. Conan Gray is a yearner. I was a yearner too. And while I may strut through campus, tossing my hair when the chorus hits, just know it’s a tribute to my younger self. A reminder that, if you’re lucky, the yearning never fully goes away, and that claiming your world, in whatever small or dramatic ways you can, is always worth it.