The Breakfast Club and the Reunion I Skipped

Last night, I rewatched The Breakfast Club for what must be the hundredth time. I’ve always loved that movie—it’s one of those classic ‘80s films that seemed to define a generation. But this time, I noticed things I’d never paid much attention to before.

First, the language and some of the subject matter. Wow. I didn’t remember it being quite so rough around the edges! Still, once I looked past that, I was reminded why the story has always stuck with me. Five students from five very different high school cliques—the popular girl, the jock, the brain, the weirdo, and the rebel—trapped together in Saturday detention.

It struck me how much those same groups existed in my own high school. We all had our categories, our little boxes that supposedly defined who we were.

If I had to choose, I probably would have fallen into “the brain” group back then—but in my heart, I always leaned toward the rebel side. Maybe that’s why the movie has always spoken to me. Beneath all those labels, each of those kids just wanted to be understood, accepted, and seen for who they truly were.

Ironically, last night was also my high school’s 50th reunion. When the announcement first came out, I was excited. I wanted to go, to see old friends and maybe even reconnect with a few classmates I hadn’t seen in decades. But as the date drew closer, something inside me shifted. Partly it was due to personal reasons, partly because I had family coming in from out of town—and honestly, I just wanted to spend that time with them.

So, I didn’t go.

Today, as I scroll through Facebook, I know I’ll see pictures of smiling faces from that reunion. I’m both looking forward to seeing them and dreading it a little too.

A 50th reunion only comes once in a lifetime, and I know I’ll never get another chance at it.

There’s a part of me that hates missing it.

But another part of me—the rebel part, maybe—feels at peace with my choice. After all, The Breakfast Club taught me long ago that who we are doesn’t depend on which group we fit into or which events we attend. It’s about being true to ourselves, right where we are.

And as I sat there last night watching that movie, I couldn’t help but think how much life is like that Saturday detention—different people from all walks of life brought together for a reason. Some lessons come late, some arrive quietly, but God always knows what He’s doing.

Maybe I didn’t need to go back to my high school reunion to relive old memories. Maybe what I needed was right there in front of me: a reminder that I’ve already been shaped, refined, and freed by the One who truly sees me—no labels, no groups, just grace.

Lord, thank You for reminding me that who I am in You is far more important than who I was in high school. Help me to live each day true to myself and to the person You’ve created me to be. Amen.