Happy New Year! I haven’t posted in a month, sorry.
In the time I’ve been away, I’ve had a realization that I’d like to share. This blog has become somewhat of an open diary. A place where I can let you inside my head to experience things with me.
When I was a little kid, my life seemed to be lied out in front of me very simply. I’d go to school, make friends, get good grades, have a boyfriend, etc. The typical life of a teenager. Or so I thought.
I’ve since learned that there is no such thing as “typical” but that’s another discussion for another day.
When my life wasn’t going that way, I figured it would just sort itself out and eventually lead back to the path I thought it would take. But the longer that this has gone on, the more I realize that that won’t be my life. Maybe it never would’ve been.
I thought I knew exactly who I would be as a teenager. I thought that I’d have amazing friendships and perfect grades. I thought I’d be tall and pretty and attend the highschool I’d always driven past with my family. The one my dad went to.
And now, I sit here reflecting. I’m sixteen now. I haven’t had the party I thought I would’ve. The one I really wanted. My friendships are awkward and unsteady. I find myself over-sharing and regretting it later. I’m unable to communicate when I’m uncomfortable with something, when I don’t want to talk about something.
I always thought I’d be strong and confident in myself. I’d know what to say and would never let anyone walk all over me. But I lack that confidence and strength. And the more time I spend with some people, the more they talk about things I don’t want to, the more they hug me, touch me, lean on me, when I want to be left alone, the worse I feel.
I end up overwhelmed and unable to cope so I bottle it all up until I get home, where I’m comfortable. And every night I promise myself I’ll say something tomorrow, end this cycle tomorrow. But I can never bring myself to do it.
I don’t find myself pretty, it’s quite the opposite. And don’t even get me started on boys.
But most of all, I’m not going to that highschool. Not experiencing what I want to be. On a certain level that’s okay because it’s what I need right now but really, it bothers me. Hurts me even. I remember being excited for freshman year because I would get home first and have the house to myself. I never got that.
I know who I wish I was. I know what she looks like, the way she acts and how she talks. I spend many nights when I’m unable to sleep thinking about what she’d do. I idolize her. I love her. Long for her. But I’m not her. She has the life I thought I’d have. And realizing I’m not her, the person I always thought I’d be, hurts.
Maybe I can make myself her, I don’t know. It would take time and a lot of work. But I want to be as close to her as I can be. She is the picture of beauty and strength and confidence. She says what needs saying but also knows when to hold her tongue. She goes to that school and she smiles and bounces through the halls powered by her own happiness and enjoyment of life.
She’s not completely out of reach. But it will take me a while to get to her. I trust that she’ll wait for me. I trust that I will get to her. It’s just a matter of time and work.