Do I have to?

Do I have to go? I remember asking almost every day before school when I was in kindergarten and first grade, before I realized what a gift school was – that I got to go and see friends and learn stuff and find my voice in the world. I think by third grade, my teachers were asking “does he have to come?”

Do I have to go to church? I asked almost every Sunday and Holy Day of Obligation. If you’re not Catholic, that latter name says it all. It’s an obligation, and don’t even think about the joy you might find. By high school and early college, I found great joy there, until it was overtaken by the shockingly human and inhumane practices that came to light.

Now there’s so little I feel I have to do, and yet so much space taken up by it. I get to do so many things, and seek joy in so many places. But I also have to find ways to say goodbye to friends, to family, to dreams, to possibility. And I have to be open to pain and resentment and fear and frustration, my own and others’. And I have to do it on my own, without the reassurance or pressure of parents or teachers or priests.

I have to find my own way in the world anew each day. And I get to, too.