I'd Rather Just Not Grow Up

Where to start? It's been a whirlwind the last couple weeks. My classes have started up again for the last time, and that's been hitting me a little harder than I'd expected. 4 months and my undergrad is complete? That can't be real. 

The night before I started third grade I cried to my parents because I had heard that third grade was when you had to learn long division. The thought of that terrified me. But now I'm 12 credit hours away from graduating college, knowing I'm having to make my way in the real world- and it doesn't make any sense to me that this is the circumstance that doesn't scare me. At least, not nearly as much.  

A lot of things right now are making me anxious, but I think that's normal. I got comfortable in college classes just in time to be done. Just in time for the world to need me out in it, and just in time for me to need myself more than ever. Just in time to need a coffee date with my mama in a cafe on a Sunday afternoon to catch each other up. Losing my job forced me into discomfort and until then, I didn't realize how much I needed that, too. 

Last week I asked one of the little girls I was babysitting what she wanted to be when she grew up. "Actually, I'd rather just not grow up," she said. Matter-of-factly, like she knew everything there was to know and I was ridiculous for even asking. "It'll make me different."

And then it got quiet. She turned her back to me and went right back to her LEGO set. 

5 years old and that's how she feels about it? I admired her, but my heart broke for a second at the thought of such a young mind being afraid of the future rather than full of excitement for it. 

In a way, it felt like I was talking to a younger version of myself. Like my worlds were colliding. Like both versions of me needed the other -- young me needed to see me now to know that growing up and being different wouldn't be all bad, and present me needed younger me to remind me of the same thing. So that was cool. Because that had been my second 16 hour day in a row and I was coming up on the end of my patience in terms of dealing with adult reality. A lot of the time I don't know what I need until it happens, and the moment that I just described was no exception.

Present me has defaulted to survival mode for the time being. A lot of what I'm saying to myself lately is, "just get through it."

Just finish the degree. Just get the diploma.

Just put in the long hours. Just make sure bills get paid.

Just accept that a lot of what's uncomfortable right now is temporary and will change for the better when the time is right.

Sure, I'm not doing what I really want to be doing right now in terms of work, but I'm also closer than I've ever been and only getting closer every time I clock in. 

I'm knocking out gen-ed credits that both bore and frustrate me rather than stimulate my interest or my enthusiasm in anything- but I've never been closer to being done than I am as I sit here writing this. 

This phase of uncertainty and apprehension won't last, and that's what I'm trying my best to remember in the moments when everything feels off. 

This period of my life, when most everything seems unfamiliar and uncomfortable, is so important. It's not what I want, at all, but it's what I need.

I'm not satisfied with the way things are at the moment and thank God for that- because that means growth is getting every opportunity to squeeze itself into almost every minute as if it owns me.   

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A few nights ago, in a post-chaotic day and emotionally drained/beyond all hope state of mind, I accidentally grabbed a fork instead of a spoon to eat ice cream with. When I asked myself why under my breath, my boyfriend responded, "That's just the kind of day you've had." 

And yeah. He nailed it. I had skipped lunch, changed outfits 3 times, gone to class, finished a shift at work, run errands, driven an hour and a half to and from obligations, been told via email that I hadn't gotten the job I had applied for, etc. Not my finest 12 or so hours, but not my worst. 

The day had made no sense, and neither did grabbing a fork. The nice thing is, I'm 22 years old and realizing how cool it is that life almost seems to be designed for mistakes. Younger me was perfection-driven, present me knows better. Connection matters most to me now, and it seems that humanity is at its best when things aren't perfect (or even close).

When I lost my job, I could barely keep up with messages from anyone and everyone who knew of any possible opportunity I could go after.

When I locked myself out of my car a couple weeks ago, 4 different people who passed me asked if I was okay or if I needed help. In the cold. As the daylight was running out. 

My Yoga instructor complimented my backpack pin collection two weeks ago and then at the end of the last class, gifted me one of her own.

I struggled hard in my Geology class last semester, and the other day as I was walking to my new Geology class, that professor took the time to stop and ask me if I needed anything and about how I was doing. 

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I could go on but you get the point by now, right? That.... that's not the exhaustive list. That's just the BEGINNING. And this whole whatever this is right now... this is just the beginning, too. The beginning of a lot of good. The beginning of building something of my very own that I won't, for once, have to watch tumble to the ground and wreck whatever is within reach.

Beginnings are great, but they're also very hard. Especially when they start really happening 22 years after you're born and last for years, while everybody seems to think that's a good time to ask you about your end game. What your plans are for after college, where you'll move, whether or not you'll go back to school, where you are in your relationship and where it's going, etc.
I don't know. That's as honest as I can be. I have no idea.
No idea where I'll be living by the end of this year.
No idea what I'll be doing to make a living in the first place.
No idea what I even WANT to do, because all I ever see around me is places where I could step in and make the world better.

Society is loud, and right now it feels like it's screaming at me to get my s**t together.
I get angry quickly, because it feels impossible to try my best while being yelled at to do better.
I told that to my therapist towards the end of my last session, since it had been weeks of hearing voices in my own head, and I'll never forget the way she responded.
"I don't think that's why you're angry," she said. "And I think you know that."

Silence.

"You have higher expectations for yourself than what society could want from you," she told me. "Its voice is irrelevant to you. That's where the issue is. Write it off. Tell it to shut up so you can listen to yourself."

Again, just what I needed.
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I'd rather just not grow up too, now that I think about it. I wish that were a decision people could make. Growing up seems to be a constant, confusing stream of beginnings and endings interrupted by increasing freedoms and responsibilities.
And I can confirm: it does make you different.
Very different- but it doesn't completely tear you away from your younger self.
This past week when I was admitted to the ER before the sun had even come all the way up, the most comforting thing in my world was that my parents were right there beside me.
The last time the three of us were in that setting together was when I was 5.
17 years later, I'm 22 and I still just want my mom and dad in my hospital room.

Since the pain I was admitted for has been dying down, I've been paying a lot more attention to my physical existence and the life I'm really trying to live. I've been actively making every effort to listen to myself more, which is harder than it sounds.

I'm trying to balance my chaos with calm.

My ambition with rest.

My hard days with things that heal me.  

My passion for people with protecting my own peace. 

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Last Saturday night I was babysitting again, and tucking another little girl into bed when she asked me if I was a part of her family.

That's when it really hit me. That's when I knew I had the perfect ending for this post and that's when I could hear my purpose screaming to me that I was handling the whole growing up thing pretty well.

My job is to be a role model for those kids. To be an adult that they can look up to, count on and confide in. I love that. I love being someone they need, even if it's just to grab something beyond their reach or read something because they don't know how to yet. And I think the most important/most underrated part of my job is just being a friend to them.
Being there to listen, show an interest, and definitely to make them laugh.

Because yeah, I think if all of us were honest we'd agree that we'd rather just not grow up. But since it seems to be my time to do that now, I'm going to do my best to do it right. To do it in a way that makes the young people I work with excited for their turn.

Not to make them wish away their youth or anything of the sort- that's too important. 

Just to be someone who gives them the right reasons to want to take on this world.

xox