This will be mostly for my own good, which blogging often is. You know, in the self-actualizing way that writing something down kind of forces you to verbalize and acknowledge. This is mostly brought on by a recent gchat conversation with a dear friend in which we discussed the issue of feeling like kids running around in a grown up's world. She and I have known each other for a little over five years now, which is likely the longest I've known anyone that I didn't know before college. (Do the math...yes, I graduated in 2004.) Therefore, she is a kind of sounding board for my identity because we've watched one another ricochet all over the place trying to find where we fit. And I'd venture to say that we're on our way moreso than we've ever been, but we're not there yet. At least I'm not.
She and I will both be 23 in the next few months. I know, I know, we're just babies. Young adults in every sense of the phrase. We're fresh-faced (or something), idealistic, and uncertain. I'm still close enough to 18 that I can easily recall believing I'd sort of have it figured out by now. (Clearly, that's not the case.)
But I'm not 18 anymore. I've got a couple years under my belt. I don't claim to get it yet. I'm just saying that I'm starting to, you know? I find that I get most frustrated with myself when I look around and think that just because I'm a few years younger than most of the people I go to school with or even keep frequent contact with that I am separate from them. I'm not, and anytime I think I am, I have to stop and remember that people will respond to me. 22 (or 23 for that matter) is whatever I want it to be. If I want to segregate myself and feel young and silly, then people respect that. They really don't care. It's kind of up to me.
Most days I'm still reeling on the highs of newly discovered passions and then enduring their equal and opposite lows. I'm still trying to shed my tendency to make other people happy, because I'm realizing that never really worked for me anyways. It's still difficult, because that part of me runs really deep.
I'm impulsive and impetuous and awkward. I'm persistent and honest and concerned and curious. I've always been those things, and I probably always will be. It's learning to own them that makes the difference. And if you don't like me, I can be okay with that. :) I think.
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I feel like I want to give you a hug after reading this =) I am 33 and an attorney, and I often still feel like a kid in a grown up's world - and I love it. When someone looks at me and looks totally confused and ask me, totally incredulous, "YOU are an attorney?!!" I can't help but laugh. Never stop being impulsive, impetuous, awkward, persistent, honest, concerned and curious. If it makes you seem young, who cares? I say the rest of the world acts too old and world-weary.
ReplyDelete-Nina (a.k.a. nsmonkeygirl)