Anyway, as I looked back at my posts, not just yesterday's, but all posts, it seems that it may not be illustrating myself in the best light. I know that what I say is mostly about my anxiety, frustration, and inpatience with life. I just want to say, that I am not all negative. Yes, I let negative thoughts or energies rule me perhaps more than they should, but I am generally a really positive person. I believe things all happen for a reason, and politeness should be used by all human beings. As much as I am frustrated with being home and unable to get started on my career, I know that something big is coming. I keep a positive attitude because for every minute you spend upset, is a minute of happiness you'll never get back. I don't like to get upset, and I don't like people to see me get that way. It is a side of me that may not be my brightest colors.
Okay, excuse that rant. My point is, I see what I have written, and I realize... when did I finally decide to grow up? As far as I know, I don't think I have had a deciding moment in life to where I became an adult. Like in Finding Neverland, Mr. Barrie's character tells the oldest son, George, "The boy is gone. In the last 30 seconds, you became a grown up." Have a had my moment? We always hear of a "coming of age" story, such as Catcher In the Rye or in a movie like "Now and Then". But outside of theatrical life, is there such a defining moment? Or does the transition just happen over time?
As I sit here in my room typing this, I look around. Although my room is painted like a teenage room, I believe there are elements of sophistication, and proof that I have gotten older.; whether it is through my pictures of my time in Florida or my Boston University Diploma hanging on my bookshelf. But overall, I still see so many remants of my girlhood. I have about 30 pillows I made in middle school, the stuffed animals I slept with when I was five, the rediculous pastels and pinks that really just conflict with the rest of my room. Looking at this, I realize that I do not want that anymore. I want to either donate my stuff or throw it out. This is what gets me, I have NEVER thought those thoughts before. When did I finally outgrow my room, my stuff, my childhood? I don't need this items, and I do not necessarily want them. Never have a felt such a disconnect to my childhood or my room. When did home become so unfamiliar?
I know that this is the "you are becoming an adult" stage in my life. Yay, I have made it! But... I am not so happy. I have loved my childhood. I love everything about being young, discovering who you are, and dreaming. Although I rarely divuldged in normal kids acitvities (I have always been more mature for my age and a rather serious kid), I still feel like I am a kid at heart. When I am happy, you know that I am happy! I still feel I have the same curiosity for the world as I did when I was six. Heck, I still have the same dreams from when I was six.
Luckily, I have never been told by my parents, "It's time to grow up." They never pressured me into finding a serious, more respectable profession. To that, I am eternally grateful. I remember my first job, I worked at my local one room theater. I was so happy to be working somewhat in the "film" industry, I guess I was smiling a bit to much as they walked out.
One of the guests made it a point to come up to me and said, "I have never seen a smile so bright. You are a kid at heart. Never, ever lose that. The world needs that."
"I won't. I promise," I said. I will make it a duty of mine not too.
So here I am at the verge of adulthood, and saying goodbye to my childhood as I am about to leave the nest in the upcoming weeks. I have always feared getting older because I love the spirit of being young, and I never want it to end. So I am waiting by my window every night, waiting for him to arrive. Where is Peter Pan when you need him most?! Am I like Wendy, who has to grow up because society expects her too? Even when she does, she never stops believing in her past. I guess being Wendy would not be such a bad thing afterall.
As much as I want to remain young, I know I need to make a life for my own. I just wish Peter would come and save me, even if it is only for a short time. I feel as if I am not ready for such a big step, then simultaneously, I feel as if the world is mine to own.
I don't think I will have a defining moment to prove I have become an adult. Or maybe I did and just don't know it. Or, maybe that will be they day I move out. Not sure. I know I could never say goodbye to my youth, but then I have also never felt so strangely distant from it. I just hope this distance actually diminishes rather than grow over my lifetime. I never want to regret.
I guess change has come, is coming, and will come. I just need to take it one step at a time. I look at my life and see so much potential. I get so excited I want to scream with excitement at times, but then I also have my hesitations and fears like anyone else.
So until I actually decide I am an adult, here I am... a kid of 23... in my childhood room...holding onto my teddy... waiting for Peter to come through my window.
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