As one grows up and old, there are always these looming wishes to be something more. To be more mature, experienced, than what pedestal they’ve taken themselves off of and holding themselves to fulfill expectations that are entirely unrealistic. From a young age, I believe that most of us were coached into this ‘Westernized Outlook’ of life. A mode of thinking that promotes magnificent strides of successes and an extensive record of achievements – all before you’ve reached some specific age.
Somewhere along the way, people took this need to be more than the years they’ve been on this Earth and let it infect every aspect of life. From when someone has their first kiss to the age they decide what they want to do with the rest of their lives. Which is ironic, because people know, generally speaking, so little about the vastness of life and the depths of their own perception. There is so much to comprehend in life, everyone viewing knowledge and the attribute of being ‘well-rounded’ to such differing degrees. There are more books, songs, films, and even social media posts than time within our lives to view it all, to even spare a glance. With our brains that allow us only glimpses of our own stories over the entirety of our existence, knowing all that it takes to complete life tasks or participate in ‘career furthering’ events is impossible. But, you know this! We’re all to some degree (although it varies from person to person) self aware of our personal capabilities. Yet, we still place these expectations and standards on ourselves that dictate every move we do or do not make in life. From the person we are around others, to the identity we envelope alone, the media we go on about watching – as if to prove that by watching this ‘niche film’, you’ll live longer or make more money – and even when we speak about the first time we ever did anything. To make life all the more demanding, we place an emphasis on the age we were when we had our ‘firsts’, as if it says anything more about us than the years we’ve been moving throughout the world.
I cannot sit here, typing away about how it is completely acceptable to be a ‘late bloomer’ in life, and act like I haven’t cried about the minimal milestones I’ve met. As you all know, I have the tendency to be quite open about my personal life here on the Internet, because how am I supposed to be a source of comfort if you all know nothing about me. Although, maybe at this point you feel as if you know a little too much about me… this piece will only display more facets of my life, but this time, I aim to relate my life experiences to my opinion on the ‘late bloomer’ phenomenon.
When all is said and done, I shouldn’t have to concern myself with doing or accomplishing certain things at the age my peers were when they did because I’m not them and I don’t want to be. We’re on our own journeys, we come from different backgrounds, we want to embody different principles – so if I were to constantly try to meet them at various life landmarks, it wouldn’t amount to anything. It wouldn’t matter because to state it simply, we aren’t meant to have the same stories or turning points. That’s what gives each of us our sense of individuality. Truly, think about this, if we as children, teens, or adults were all accomplishing things in our lives at the same time there would be no sentimental value to it. There would be no celebration for these achievements, because of the linear fulfillment manner that is constantly occurring. The conversations about growing into adulthood would be bland and predictable, I think life itself, the beauty of living, would be stripped away entirely. The unpredictability of your life and those around you is what gives it meaning, it’s what bonds people or divides them, it’s what grants us a sense of self because we all took different routes during our expedition.
Humans have this bad habit of getting caught up in the minute details in their overall stories. The semantics of being or behaving a certain way in the various chapters of their life . The ‘rights’ and ‘wrongs’ or the ‘does’ and ‘don’ts’ of life. If we feel a sense of deficiencies in ourselves, in our capability of having the ‘right’ experience, we shame others if they have or we throw ourselves these pity parties that have the ability to make one feel even worse. We all do this, but the outlook and way in which we deal with it is a true testament of oneself, because no one wants to be around someone that focuses on what is lacking. This was a lesson I had to learn by experiencing a sense of dislike from others and myself. As I was constantly complaining about the things I hadn’t done, people grew tired of my cries. Time didn’t cease so I could list my grievances, it marched on like the people in my life. I was stuck with no one, missed opportunities offered in my carelessness with time, and my own ‘lack thereof’ outlook on life. I had dug myself into a hole and had never stopped to wonder what would happen if I wished to get out, with my head down I bypassed solutions to the problems I was complaining about to begin with.
When I had managed to lift my head and shift my eyes from my feet to the horizon, there were certain things that fell into place. Events that occurred seamlessly, as if they were destined to occur at that moment. I used comedy to cope with things I felt I ‘lacked’ and found that laughing about it with others (who most of the time could relate) felt so much better than wallowing about my life experience deficiencies. I think joking about such things led me to realize the absurdity of my worries. For instance, when I was a young teen, I – as most young teens do – was constantly worried about what age I would have my first kiss, date, or even fall in love! I remember being around the age of twelve when I began to concern myself with such things. At that point I had only been on this Earth for a little over a decade! Why was I so caught up with something that I was one, too young to be worrying about and two, far too naive in my maturity level to comprehend. With age came this ever impending worry of when things would happen for me. Reflecting on it now I find it all quite silly, but there’s a part of me that feels empathy for young teenage me – as it was clear that my distress was stemming from a place of insecurity and exposure to social media/Internet.
As cheesy as it sounds, all I had to do was wait. Wait for my time to come, when the universe or whatever all mighty power you believe in, thought that the circumstances were right for me to experience such turning points. I still struggle trying to maintain this, ‘it will come when it is meant to’ mindset (of course I only hold this sentiment to some things in life, not everything – although maybe I should look into that) because I just want to be in the know about everything always. If my friends are talking about something, I don’t want to be excluded on account of my lack of experience and achievements. I think all of us, with our individual and ever changing insecurities, are constantly fearful of being othered, of being the person who others see has shortfalls. This fear being the fuel to push ourselves to do ‘x,y, z’ before twenty or place these unattainable expectations on our shoulders to carry and control us. As I’ve matured with age I have tried to alter my outlook on such things, instead of being othered from the conversation, I work to use it as an opportunity to ask questions about the topic I’ve yet to attain personal knowledge on. I aim to cheer instead of discourage, it doesn’t feel as heavy as spite and the company I get to continue to surround myself with is nice. Thus, when it is my time to arrive at a life landmark I am surrounded by people who hold nothing but happiness for me. Which of course is the added bonus to experiencing whatever it was I felt I was missing out on. In actuality though, I wasn’t really ‘missing out’ or ‘blooming’ late, I was just waiting to flourish in the time meant to be my spring.
As I work to view things in such a way, I find that I have less shame in speaking about my personal milestones and the age I was when I met them. Stating that I was eighteen and one day old when I first kissed someone doesn’t embarrass me like it once had. Admitting that there are things I’ve yet to accomplish or experience isn’t this intense disclosure of information I had once believed it to be, as it’s merely a fact of the time. I’m not a ‘late bloomer’ for such confessions, it doesn’t make me less than, or immature – it just shows that my season to flourish in a personal springtime hasn’t arrived yet.
If there is one piece of this article I hope you keep with you it is this: don’t lose your petals hiding from the all displaying sun. That is to say, don’t lose yourself to a lack of experience or unrealistic expectations that may be displayed as you age. Instead, work to acknowledge that the seasons of one’s life come and go at varying times, recognize that life isn’t a race, and that there is beauty to be found in the dissimilarities of you and those around you. Take time to tend to your personal garden, to enjoy the seasons of life that may bring/teach differing lessons, and let yourself flourish into the most beautiful flower when your spring arrives.