Personally, I sought out “Felicity,” a captivating college drama created by J.J. Abrams and Matt Reeves for The WB channel, during a period in my own university journey where I felt completely powerless. I had already watched and rewatched “Gilmore Girls” countless times in search of that comforting dopamine rush that would magically solve all my problems and lull me to sleep. But I needed something fresh to fill the void. Never mind that my anxiety had long surpassed the point where a television show could provide relief. I simply wanted a mindless, soothing series tailored for teenagers that would help me find solace at night.
“Felicity” checked all the boxes, and then some. I spent an unreasonable amount of money I didn’t have on purchasing the complete DVD box sets online. Watching a show about other young adults navigating the challenges of university brought a newfound clarity for me, a student who couldn’t recall a time when everything felt right. If I were doing things correctly, I wouldn’t constantly be stressed and anxious, right? I was still chasing the validation and praise I received in elementary school, but now I had to push myself to the extreme to maintain a standard that only I held myself accountable to. No obstacle seemed insurmountable when the right television show was consumed at the right time. I believed that Felicity Porter (played by Keri Russell) and her college friends would undoubtedly have the answers I sought.
However, in a stunning turn of events, they did not. If anything, the portrayal of college angst and relatable storylines in the relatively short-lived series only intensified my anxiety. For instance, in one episode, Felicity and Ben (portrayed by Scott Speedman) contemplate dropping out of school and fleeing the country after getting into trouble for underage drinking and breaking into a university pool.
My workaholic tendencies would never allow me to entertain such a notion, but I understood the constant internal struggle of wanting everything and nothing simultaneously. In addition to the typical challenges faced by young adults in their journey of self-discovery, I was restless, overworked, and depressed. And then, the world was hit by a global pandemic.
During the early days of the COVID-19 lockdown, I watched the second half of “Felicity” for the first time. The irony of immersing myself in a fictionalized depiction of the stereotypical American college experience while my own was on the brink of complete upheaval was not lost on me. It became apparent that nothing would teach me what I was lacking except being confronted with myself, now with an abundance of time to reflect on every aspect of my life.
There came a point where I didn’t want to finish the final few episodes of the series. Watching “Felicity” for the reasons I had initially started it had become too painful. I couldn’t bear to witness these characters who had evolved and grown so much graduate from college and embark on their adult lives. I was too preoccupied with the realization that my own university experience would never mirror theirs. I would never have Rory Gilmore’s iconic study tree or Felicity Porter’s complicated love triangles. I couldn’t visualize my inner demons as clearly as Buffy Summers from “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” and slay them with such power. My life would never align with that of a fictional character.
After completing 18 months of online courses and enduring further lockdowns, I returned to in-person university. Everything had changed. I struggled to adapt to the “new normal.” My insomnia worsened. I experienced a near breakdown and found myself seeking help at the university health clinic, finally receiving the anti-anxiety medication that I should have been prescribed years ago. I started to heal. I took small steps forward. Masked up, I attended classes, gradually inching closer to the finish line. It was only while crossing a busy downtown intersection between university buildings, gazing up at the skyscrapers as Felicity had done in the show’s opening credits, that I had an epiphany. The WB had deceived me. My university journey was nothing like Felicity’s.
Perhaps I was naive to think it would ever be. After all, she is a fictional character, and I am not. I am a living, breathing (mostly) functioning human being. I had spent my entire life immersed in my imagination to such an extent that it became an unhealthy coping mechanism, blurring the lines between what was real and what was not. Sure, I fell victim to the capitalist structure that promoted “Felicity” as the ultimate portrayal of the college experience, a structure to which I was highly susceptible.
But in a way, Felicity accomplished her purpose. Though in a completely different and unexpected manner, she guided me through my university journey. She taught me that it’s foolish to believe we have all the answers in our late teens and early twenties because life is constantly changing and evolving. She showed me that university is meant to be a time of confusion and uncertainty, even if I only comprehended this in hindsight. She revealed that this phase of life is about shedding our old selves and discovering a new version of who we are.
After completing the final coursework required for graduation, I returned to watch the last six episodes of “Felicity” that I had skipped. I was once again engulfed in depression, uncertain of what lay ahead. I witnessed Felicity travel back in time and get a second chance at her senior year, an opportunity to alter her fate and witness how things could have unfolded differently. However, she learns that we cannot change the past without disrupting the future. What’s done is done. All we can do is forgive ourselves for not knowing better at the time and acknowledge that we did our best with the tools we had. I cannot change what has happened to me, but I can determine the direction I take going forward.
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