vAs I pack my bags to leave for college, I take a look at the calendar- July 25th 2016. Half the year was already over and I didn’t even realise. And then it hit me.
I have just 3 months more of being a teen.
Suddenly, I wished for time to just stop. Not because I didn’t want to go back to college or because I wanted some more time with my friends and family. I just really did not want to turn 20. I wasn’t ready to be an adult just yet. I’m still not.
Two years back I was just a girl with big dreams waiting to live her life on her own terms. I thought that my life would be a never ending party full of awesome ‘How I met your mother’ kinda stories. (Except, of course for me it would be ‘How I met your father’) I used to look forward to each day, with an enthusiasm that refused to waver. Two years ago feels like a long time now, and as it turns out, none of the things I imagined ever actually happened. Somewhere along the path of living up to other people’s expectations, I forgot to just be a teen. I forgot to make mistakes; I forgot to just be me.
And now perhaps, it’s too late.
All my life all I ever wanted to do was to do something that would make my parents want to say “Beta we’re really proud of you.” And believe me, I tried. But I guess my parents and I had very different definitions of things you should be proud about. At least, that’s what I always thought. What I didn’t realise is that I don’t have to hear them say it for me to believe that they are indeed proud of me. I hope they are.
I look at other kids my age and I know I’m not exactly the golden trophy of children or a prodigy of any kind. While people I know are out conquering the world with their own companies, bagging scholarships and reaching new heights with medals around their neck, I sit here with no accolades, no trophies on my table and no certificates on my wall.
All I have is a simple blog, a journal filled with poetry, and some decent dancing skills.
Is that not enough?
You know, when I was a kid, I used to think that twenty something’s were the coolest kind of adults who had their lives sorted. Little did I know that being twenty comes with a whole load of responsibility. No one told me that when you’re twenty you’ll have to start thinking about having a stable future. You’ll have to think about job prospects and how to fund your master’s degree. You’ll have to think about taxes, loans, marriage and a whole bunch of other stuff like that.
Hell, I don’t even know how to deposit money into my own bank account yet.
In the midst of this tangled mess of thoughts, I hear my mother tell me that I should not take a break before my masters. That I should continue studying and not apply for a job yet. So that I’d have a stable, well-paying job by the time I’m 27 and ready to get married.
MARRIED?
I literally did not even think of that.
When I was 13, I knew exactly where I’d be in the next five years. And now I have no clue. That really scares me. I bet it scares all of us.
I’m not ready to be an adult just yet. I’m not ready to think about “settling down”. There are just so many things I still have left to do! And this whole turning 20 thing just complicates it.
I feel jealous. I envy all my friends who tell me stories of when they bunked college just to go for a drive. Stories of how they drank so much that they needed a friend to lift them up to be able to walk. Stories of how the screamed so loud at concerts that it almost ripped their vocal chords off. How they surprised their friends on their birthday at midnight, how they danced like complete retards and sang like monkeys at every club’s karaoke night.
Lol, I’ve never even entered a club.
I was the girl who refused to go to the mall in her first year of college because it was “too far” and I hadn’t informed my parents. I was the girl who ordered lime sodas while my friends sat there with chilled beers. While my friends were out at hookah bars, I sat in my room binge watching TV shows. While they organised sleepovers at each other’s houses, I politely refused their invitations and chose to hang out with my Chinese food take-out instead.
I rarely ever asked my parents to let me do stuff like this, but even when I did (after a whole lot of contemplation about the safety concerns) they generally wouldn’t let me. And I never had the guts to do something without telling them. Perhaps, even if I did get a chance, I would never do some of the things I mentioned above. (Like the hookah. Smoking kills, people. If you’re so enthusiastic about inhaling smoke, put your mouth at the end of an exhaust pipe. At least that way, you’d be saving the environment a little.)
I remember a few weeks back, I was talking to my mom and I told her- “I feel like doing something crazy.” I wish I had the guts to tell her all this then. I wish I could tell her to trust me a little and let me make my mistakes.
Oh by the way, mom (or dad) if you’re reading this, relax. I’m not planning on doing any of these things right now. Please don’t get angry because of what I wrote.
I know that for you I’ll always be a little kid. But our generation is surprisingly a lot more responsible that you give us credit for. We care about our safety too. Trust us a little.
So this one’s for all the other teens like me. The designated ‘sober best friends’. The ones who lived behind a shadow of ‘parental permissions’, the ones who were always a little too mature for their own good. Live a little, break the rules. You’ve still got a little time left.
Today, I’m nineteen and three quarters. Most of my teen hood is way past me. And here I am with no stories to tell, no advice to give. I have no checked off bucket lists and no photographs of crazy things I thought I’d never do. No memories of blurry nights, no stupid mistakes to laugh over.
Today, I am nineteen and three quarters.
But I still have a quarter left.
Let the craziness begin. J
I have just 3 months more of being a teen.
Suddenly, I wished for time to just stop. Not because I didn’t want to go back to college or because I wanted some more time with my friends and family. I just really did not want to turn 20. I wasn’t ready to be an adult just yet. I’m still not.
Two years back I was just a girl with big dreams waiting to live her life on her own terms. I thought that my life would be a never ending party full of awesome ‘How I met your mother’ kinda stories. (Except, of course for me it would be ‘How I met your father’) I used to look forward to each day, with an enthusiasm that refused to waver. Two years ago feels like a long time now, and as it turns out, none of the things I imagined ever actually happened. Somewhere along the path of living up to other people’s expectations, I forgot to just be a teen. I forgot to make mistakes; I forgot to just be me.
And now perhaps, it’s too late.
All my life all I ever wanted to do was to do something that would make my parents want to say “Beta we’re really proud of you.” And believe me, I tried. But I guess my parents and I had very different definitions of things you should be proud about. At least, that’s what I always thought. What I didn’t realise is that I don’t have to hear them say it for me to believe that they are indeed proud of me. I hope they are.
I look at other kids my age and I know I’m not exactly the golden trophy of children or a prodigy of any kind. While people I know are out conquering the world with their own companies, bagging scholarships and reaching new heights with medals around their neck, I sit here with no accolades, no trophies on my table and no certificates on my wall.
All I have is a simple blog, a journal filled with poetry, and some decent dancing skills.
Is that not enough?
You know, when I was a kid, I used to think that twenty something’s were the coolest kind of adults who had their lives sorted. Little did I know that being twenty comes with a whole load of responsibility. No one told me that when you’re twenty you’ll have to start thinking about having a stable future. You’ll have to think about job prospects and how to fund your master’s degree. You’ll have to think about taxes, loans, marriage and a whole bunch of other stuff like that.
Hell, I don’t even know how to deposit money into my own bank account yet.
In the midst of this tangled mess of thoughts, I hear my mother tell me that I should not take a break before my masters. That I should continue studying and not apply for a job yet. So that I’d have a stable, well-paying job by the time I’m 27 and ready to get married.
MARRIED?
I literally did not even think of that.
When I was 13, I knew exactly where I’d be in the next five years. And now I have no clue. That really scares me. I bet it scares all of us.
I’m not ready to be an adult just yet. I’m not ready to think about “settling down”. There are just so many things I still have left to do! And this whole turning 20 thing just complicates it.
I feel jealous. I envy all my friends who tell me stories of when they bunked college just to go for a drive. Stories of how they drank so much that they needed a friend to lift them up to be able to walk. Stories of how the screamed so loud at concerts that it almost ripped their vocal chords off. How they surprised their friends on their birthday at midnight, how they danced like complete retards and sang like monkeys at every club’s karaoke night.
Lol, I’ve never even entered a club.
I was the girl who refused to go to the mall in her first year of college because it was “too far” and I hadn’t informed my parents. I was the girl who ordered lime sodas while my friends sat there with chilled beers. While my friends were out at hookah bars, I sat in my room binge watching TV shows. While they organised sleepovers at each other’s houses, I politely refused their invitations and chose to hang out with my Chinese food take-out instead.
I rarely ever asked my parents to let me do stuff like this, but even when I did (after a whole lot of contemplation about the safety concerns) they generally wouldn’t let me. And I never had the guts to do something without telling them. Perhaps, even if I did get a chance, I would never do some of the things I mentioned above. (Like the hookah. Smoking kills, people. If you’re so enthusiastic about inhaling smoke, put your mouth at the end of an exhaust pipe. At least that way, you’d be saving the environment a little.)
I remember a few weeks back, I was talking to my mom and I told her- “I feel like doing something crazy.” I wish I had the guts to tell her all this then. I wish I could tell her to trust me a little and let me make my mistakes.
Oh by the way, mom (or dad) if you’re reading this, relax. I’m not planning on doing any of these things right now. Please don’t get angry because of what I wrote.
I know that for you I’ll always be a little kid. But our generation is surprisingly a lot more responsible that you give us credit for. We care about our safety too. Trust us a little.
So this one’s for all the other teens like me. The designated ‘sober best friends’. The ones who lived behind a shadow of ‘parental permissions’, the ones who were always a little too mature for their own good. Live a little, break the rules. You’ve still got a little time left.
Today, I’m nineteen and three quarters. Most of my teen hood is way past me. And here I am with no stories to tell, no advice to give. I have no checked off bucket lists and no photographs of crazy things I thought I’d never do. No memories of blurry nights, no stupid mistakes to laugh over.
Today, I am nineteen and three quarters.
But I still have a quarter left.
Let the craziness begin. J
No comments:
Post a Comment