15 Years Since Tucson High: Remembering What I Forgot

I graduated from Tucson High in 2010, and for most of the past 15 years, it’s felt like a blurry chapter—one I didn’t revisit often. Life happened fast after that. College, work, love, loss, healing, a whole lot of growing up. Honestly, I barely remembered high school at all… until I saw the pictures.

It’s wild how a photo can yank a memory from the depths: a hallway, a classmate’s laugh, the weird tile floor in the cafeteria. Suddenly, it all came rushing back. And before I knew it, I was standing in front of the school again—this time with my husband and son by my side.

Walking up to those familiar red brick buildings, I felt butterflies. Not the anxious teenage kind, but the deep, fluttery kind that signals something meaningful. Like I was walking into a time warp, but with my whole life beside me—two people who’ve only ever known the version of me shaped after those high school years.

There’s something sacred about returning to a place that held so much of your formative awkwardness, heartbreak, chaos, and potential. Tucson High was where I learned how to navigate friendships, pressure, rebellion, and ambition (sometimes all in the same day). It’s also where I didn’t know who I was yet—and that’s okay. Maybe none of us did.

Inside, faces blurred and sharpened as memories clicked into place. Some people looked the same. Some didn’t. We hugged. We laughed. We caught up on 15 years of life in short, sweet bursts. Jobs, babies, divorces, losses, triumphs. All of it on the table. No cliques, no drama—just a bunch of grown-ups showing up and honoring a strange, shared past.

And maybe that’s what reunions are about. Not the nostalgia or the comparison—but the acknowledgment. We made it through something together. We were kids trying to survive ourselves. And now we’re out here doing the real work of living.

Fifteen years later, I remembered. And I’m glad I went back—even just for a night.