Growing up has never been so hard.
When I was younger, it just happened one way or the other. A year seemed like an eternity.
Now I have to listen to everyone telling me I don’t act my age. That I’m either too grown up or too much of a child. That I don’t fit into the box of what I’m supposed to be like anymore.
I feel like I have to work for it now. Get my heart broken, get over it, just to get it broken again. They call it experience. But “Experience is merely the name men give to their mistakes” as Oscar Wilde once wrote. I don’t like this whole growing up thing. I feel like I get a little bit number every day. Every now and then I see a butterfly and I remember what that immense happiness felt like that I experienced when I was younger.
I had a surgery on my toe today. They cut it open down to the bone, and now I just have to wait for it to grow back together. After the anestethics stopped working, the pain wasn’t as bad as i imagined it to be. I knew pain already. Different one. The kind of pain that makes you want to run outside and scream and cry and break down to the floor. That makes you hate yourself. But this ? I did bleed. I think i still do (although its been 12hrs since the surgery was finished). But the pain feels as numb as the rest of myself does.
Is it weird that I don’t mind it ? It is some sort of feeling. Something else than the hatred and depression I usually get. It makes me want to stand up, try out how far I can go.
It makes me miss him a little. – we stopped seeing, he said we dont have a future… well the truth hurts. I wish he was here to cuddle, as he promised.
But it also makes me remember how strong I am. How much pain I can endure. And although I couldn’t feel it physically, pain had been a part of my life before. Pain is a part of my life.
Now it’s physical. It’s real. I know where it comes from and I know that it will end. That makes me happy in some weird way.
Well, since “I’ve grown up a lot” – according to aunts and uncles that have seen me about thrice in my whole lot – , I feel like life should have more to offer. I worked my way up to here. And now people are just gonna tell me that I am either too young to understand yet or too old ?
What is this exactly? Some weird kind of trap ? I’m 16 now, 17 in about a month. 18 in about a year and a month. Grown up ? Never fully I hope.
After all, I’m still the girl that takes off her shoes at the beach in December to feel the water until my feet are white and numb. I’m stil the one that loves to blow bubbles, and laughs about everything inappropriate. I love to dress up. I love to make faces.
Although growing up often feels so negative, I think it had some positive stuff to it. Like getting to know myself better. Getting over so much. Learning how to ask for help – again, I used to be quite good at that before. Learning who to trust – I still make mistakes. Learning to value myself – not too much and not too little.
I’m thankfull I got old enough to meet this side of me. The more grown up version of this overemotional teenage dirtbag. And i’m still lifting the heavy weight of puberty. And I started to take the even bigger weight of being older on my shoulders aswell.
But I keep working out, and one day I will be able to lift it all and walk with my head held high.
I was a very shy kid. I’m not anymore. Well, most times at least.
I am very emotional and hard to understand or tolerate or live with. But I’m working on it. I really do. The more I grow up and learn about it, the better I actually get. I can’t wait to look at old pictures one day and laugh about how confused I was back then, and at how hard it seemed to love myself.
My foot still hurts. I shiver a little. But I will survive this day, and the next. There’s a new year waiting for me to be discovered. New people, new places, new love affairs, and new broken hearts. More growing up going on!
But for now, I’ll just go close my eyes for a while. Try to fall asleep. Try to ignore the pain.
Take care lovelies,