Back in school, English Week was a big deal for me. My main personality trait was that I was good at English, so winning the spelling bee was something that I always looked forward to. Every year, I competed against students from other grades and I would somehow win, only to be awarded a silly little ribbon that I would wear with pride when I went back to my classroom. During my last spelling bee as a Senior, I remember that there was a ninth grader that was getting on my nerves and I couldn’t pinpoint why I was so desperate to win against her. We were the final two and both of our smiles would drop when the other one answered correctly. This continued until I slipped up on spelling one of the easiest words. My face nearly drained of color when I saw her wearing the first place ribbon, not because I had lost, but because she was the new me. I had been the ‘know it all’ ninth grader going up against the big kids and winning every time. At that moment, as I watched my past English teachers congratulate her, I was just a Senior who would graduate in a few weeks and never walk those halls again. The thing that had made me feel special was gone and I had passed the torch without even knowing it. The idea of actually growing older was a slap to the face.
The transition from late adolescence to young adulthood can feel like stepping on a lego while barefoot; repeatedly, over and over again. No smooth surface in sight and you’re expected to just grin and bear with it. Everyone comments on how tired you look, but they rarely take the time to pinpoint the exact moment in which your smile became so forced. Has it always been like that? They see the bags under your eyes, but don’t know that thinking about your future keeps you up at night. You begin to wonder if that’s why most coming of age films center around high school, maybe that is the last time in a person’s life where they feel like the sky’s the limit before everything goes downhill. There’s a desire to hold on to that bright-eyed version of yourself, the you that was shiny and new, that everyone adored. But the time has come for you to realize that you’ve outgrown that person.
It doesn’t help when you go from being seen as a kid, who should be out enjoying themselves, to an adult who needs to have everything sorted out. Family members go from pinching your cheeks when they greet you to expecting a powerpoint presentation detailing your plans for the future. They want specific dates and a list of potential work opportunities. It really does make you wonder if they are even happy to see you before stressing over an answer. It’s not that you miss being younger, but you do miss being perceived as someone with a world of possibilities ahead of them, instead of someone who just needs to get their act together. You see the youngest members of your family and how they are celebrated over the simplest of things; without a care in the world, just out there having a good time. Not necessarily free of expectations, but blissfully unaware of future responsibilities. That was no longer cute for you to do. It’s impossible to not feel tossed aside, hoping that you have a better idea of who you want to be when you’re asked once again.
It’s no longer essays in school discussing who you want to be when you grow up. The clock is ticking and your answer on a piece of paper just won’t do it anymore. You’re already expected to be the live-action version of your own words. It’s like every step you take rips another piece of that dream you used to have, replacing hope with uncertainty, replacing who you wanted to be with who you are. Even though you are still young, time appears to have run out. Amidst this process of grieving the plans of a teenager who had no idea what they wanted or how crushing the real world could be, you are expected to maintain your innocence because no one seems to understand you anymore. The weight of the world is caving in and you’re expected to act like a Disney Channel character.
Then the search begins, you try to retrace your steps and figure out where your radiance went. Where did it all go wrong? Why did it have to be so difficult? The more you think about the past, the more you romanticize it. It’s as if you’ve forgotten how you longed to grow up, to be taken seriously. To finally do whatever you wanted without being treated like a kid. It’s funny how our opinions change, how we seem to want things that are out of our reach. I can’t blame you, nobody can. We’re all thrown into our lives without an instruction manual. Sure, the adults in our lives attempt to advise us as well as they can, but their experience might not mesh with our own. It’s normal to think we know everything only to fall flat on our face years later.
Our coming of age story refuses to be scripted and the older we get, the more we are shocked about how things turned out. But it’s impossible to live your life chasing your past, chasing how people used to view you and how they treated you. The plans that you made as a child or as a teenager, were perfect for those younger versions of yourself, but maybe not for the current you. The pressure that we feel when it comes to seeking approval from the people around us is enough to make us think that we’ve done something wrong by growing into ourselves. It’s not that you’ve lost your shine, you’re simply figuring yourself out. The fear of being replaced, passing the torch to those younger than you and thinking that you are last place in some sort of imaginary race is completely normal, but not true.
It’s okay to be sad, it’s okay to want to go back to an age in which everything seemed big and bright. When it was easier to smile because stress seemed like an issue for the grownups. It’s okay to think that your life is like a Google Doc that you don’t have editing access to. The most important thing is to remember that you are worth each and every effort you make, that you are still radiant even when your shine is dim, that you will never go out of style because no one else could fill your shoes. There will always be time to rewrite who you want to be and pursue that dream.