Five years ago I would have laughed in your face if you told me that I would be typing a blog on my laptop, in the house I live in, which I can afford, in spite of being a college student, with the full-time job I have at a Chinese restaurant which I get to in my cute little Honda Civic. Five years ago, if you asked me how many days until my 18th birthday, I would be able to tell you without hesitation. At that age, that was the only thing I had to look forward to; there was no possibility of college, no opportunity for growth, advancement or achievement, just my legal capacity to do whatever I wanted, which was mainly just to move out.
Reminiscing about my teenage angst could be a result of the fact that I just turned 20, which is the most awkward and uneventful age to turn. I could be looking to the past as a way to reflect on what makes me different as a 20 year old senior in college, but I'm not. After reading a few witty and entertaining blogs, I caved and decided to create one of my own. After reaching this decision, I remembered that I had a blog when I was younger, and after a little digging and time, I found a lot more than what I was looking for.
When people imagine the younger versions of themselves, they imagine somebody very similar to their current self. It is only when an individual is confronted with their past identity that one notices the great contrast. You never know how far you've come until you see where you came from. I know that I have changed over the years: I changed after I moved to North Carolina, I changed from year to year in high school, I've changed every semester of college, I've changed after life-altering events, etcetera, etcetera. I know that I am not the same exact person I was years ago, but that person is not all who I am today.
To reflect about the relationships I had and didn't have, to remember the way I viewed the world and to remember how much I did and didn't know about life was certainly an eye opener. I could analyze that blog, as well as old emails for years and probably come up with volumes of analyzes. I was quite an interesting creature at the early throws of teenagedom. My entire identity was dramatically redefined several times throughout my teenage years, each caused by a particular event, rite of passage or transition. Sometimes I re-invented myself, but mostly, I was the product of my environment, changing in sync with whatever world surrounded me at the time.
I would consider myself a floater in those years. I never really had an opinion on much, I just went with the flow. Sometimes this kept me from getting in trouble and sometimes this was the very reason I got into trouble. It's strange to realize that individual was me at one point in my life because I don't recall having formidable opinions, values, ideas or even a personality in those years. I've always been a little on the sassy side, but I didn't know who I was back then because I truly was a nobody. I had virtually no opinions, likes or dislikes and can only remember my life decisions based upon who was around me at the time. This would be a joke to anyone who knows me now because I am one of the most stubborn, outgoing, opinionated and passionate people you will meet, sometimes to a fault.
As I took this walk down memory lane, I wished that I had the opportunity to tell that young, floating little girl that everything is going to be more perfect than imaginable. I would tell her that the world is her oyster and to believe in herself and her capabilities despite any adversities. I would tell her to watch out for certain people and to hold tighter to others. I would tell her to love quickly and trust slowly, to keep herself a priority at the end of the day and to embrace her strengths and develop her interests. I would tell her that life is too short to sweat the small stuff, that little upsets are not the end of the world and that there is no magic birthday or time when everything is going to be perfect and that's okay.
Unfortunately, these revelations, insights and this road to self discovery are occurring in the wee hours of the morning, reducing the amount of sleep that I will get before my eleven hour work day tomorrow minute by minute. Also, the time spent crafting this blog could have been productively spent completing homework assignments. I'll be a little tired tomorrow and a little behind with my homework, but I will be better for it, as this was certainly a memorable and worthwhile walk down memory lane.
with love,
steph
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