Two Roads

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

-The Road Not Taken, by Robert Frost

This poem is probably one of the most well-known of our time, or at least the last three lines are. "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference".
I believe most people take that to mean that the "road less traveled by" is the better one; that it was the right choice. But does he ever really say that? No. He simply states the obvious: that it has made all the difference.
While collecting a few things from my family's overstocked garage today, I found, in a box that looked much older than it is, my acceptance letter to Sarah Lawrence College. It was mostly typed--"you are among a distinguished group of students", blah blah blah--but there was also a handwritten note from the Dean of Admissions.

Welcome, Juliana. I hope SLC is as transformative as Middle College was for you.

Middle College was the half-high school, half-college, alternative-education program I was a part of my last two years of high school. It was indeed transformative, and it ultimately allowed me to graduate with my class.
For two years Sarah Lawrence was my dream. It was small! It was in New York! They were so alternative they didn't even have dorms or majors (technically)! As a writer, SLC appealed to me the way that Cal Poly appeals to an engineer, or NYU appeals to a film student, or LSU appeals to an aspiring NFL quarterback. SLC would allow me to design my own major, to benefit from the opportunities of New York City while living in a sheltered, fairytale-like campus in Bronxville. There was no other place I could see myself happier. It was, by a long shot, my first choice.

I was accepted, and I didn't go.

Hard as I try, reason after reason that I feed myself and those who ask, I can't figure out exactly why I chose UC Santa Cruz, my current school, over SLC. Maybe it was because UCSC was my first acceptance, and it was in California (no east coast weather to deal with), and it was close to my family, and, perhaps most importantly, my boyfriend.

Yes, nearly everyone will tell you, DO NOT base your school choice on your significant other. I like to think that I didn't. After all, I did fall in love with Santa Cruz as well when I visited.

Oh, there's another thing. I never even visisted Sarah Lawrence.

My parents were more than happy to get on a plane with me and go see this dream school that had somehow decided I was a perfect fit for them. After a few days of avoiding the question the words came out of my throat like glue, slow and stifling and painful. I don't want to go.
They were confused, I'm sure. Why this sudden change of heart? But to my surprise, they accepted my choice without many questions. They let it go after a few days.

Sarah Lawrence would have been the road less traveled by. Most of my fellow high schoolers didn't even know where or what it was (although let me assure you, my teachers did, and they loved that I wanted to go there). SLC is very small and very intimate and it takes a certain type of person to want it. I thought I was that person. Even though I didn't go, I will always have a special place in my heart for Sarah Lawrence, who wanted me as much as I once wanted them, who validated my talent for writing in a way that no one else ever will. I did not attend, and a part of me will always long to know how my life would have turned out differently if I had. I did not attend, but I can assure you that in this moment, I am happy with my life. More than happy. To me, in its evolving imperfection, my life is perfect.

So I'd like to amend the last few lines of this poem to fit me. Yes, by most people's standards, I took the road most traveled by. I went to a big California public school close to home, instead of journeying across the continent to attend a small, private liberal arts school in a land of ocean sunrises, sweltering summers and snowy winters. But this poem, or at least its public interpretation, assigns a negative connotation to the road most traveled. I wish to challenge that.

Two roads diverged in a wood.
I took the one that called to me,
The one that reeled me in
Though the other sang so sweetly.
I took the one most traveled
Yet my footsteps are my own.
I took the one most traveled,
But my own seeds I have sown.
Many roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one that called to me
And that made all the difference.

-My Own Road, by Me.