Growing Up

I think I’ve been a lot of different people in my life, even though I’m still only nineteen. I’ve been through a lot of things that have changed me as a person, some for better and some for worse, because that’s how life works.

 

I remember being really young and thinking my parents were super heroes who never got sad, frightened or lonely and sometimes I wish I could still think that. It’s a terrifying thing to do, realizing your parents are just people too, and I think I did that  at quite a young age.

 

I remember being older, going to high school and listening to The Beatles thinking that my views and opinions were firm and resolute. No sex before marriage. No drugs, alcohol or rebellion. My ideas and thoughts have matured, I’ve tried new things and I’ve changed quite extensively between the ages of fourteen and eighteen.

 

I feel like there are all these different versions of me floating around. The sad little girl in a country that made her feel trapped is still wandering around Holsted in the dusty rose dress I loved so much. Somewhere in Wales is teenage me, spitting venom while preaching peace wearing Beatles t-shirts and no shoes. Eighteen year old me walking through Liverpool in tears because I had gotten a phone call that my dad had died and I didn’t know what to do.

 

I feel like everyone I’ve met sees me as a person I’m not based on who I was at the time and what I was doing. Do they remember me as the girl that opened the door for them or the girl that let it shut in their face because I was too focused on my phone? Do they remember me as the girl looking out the train window with romance and wanderlust or the girl used to long train journeys who would rather wear headphones and pretend they’re still at home?

 

I feel like I’ve always known who I am and yet I’m somehow only just beginning to develop into that person, and I’m suddenly realizing I’m not too sure who that is. I still don’t know how much spaghetti I’m supposed to cook for two people, or why my clothes come out of the washing machine ripped and faded, but I’m some sort of adult now even though I still want to splash in puddles when it rains.

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