I attended my ten-year law school reunion this weekend in Durham, North Carolina.
It was fun.
Most of the people I went to law school with are kind and collegial. In a class of about 200, I have about a dozen close friends, I have some acquaintances I like very much, and I get along well with most of the rest.
But as I spent time getting reacquainted with my old law school classmates, one thing occurred to me: my life and my priorities, almost without exception, are totally at odds with those of my Duke Law peers.
I dress differently, I talk differently, I think about different stuff, and what I want to do with my life is unlike what most of my colleagues want to do.
There have been times in my life when I did this consciously. When I did things to stand out from the crowd. When I went to school in a clown suit, so to speak.
But not this time. It just happened naturally. After ten years of geographic isolation in Colorado and four years of professional isolation at my own firm, I have evolved into a different species of bird.
But the mere fact that I have survived this transformation says that I have a unique story to tell. In a room of hundreds of law school graduates across fifty years of law school classes, none of them was like me.
I didn’t seek out that path. But I’m glad it worked out that way. That it didn’t even occur to me that wearing flip flops and a lavender hoodie to the reunion wasn’t normal.
It made for a more interesting weekend. And it certainly makes for a more interesting life.