So, I’m actually trying really hard to put my thoughts into words. I mean, I have a lot of strong feelings, and I just can’t find a way to properly voice them. This is what I know: the more time passes, the more confused I get. I’m confused on how to properly be me — how to properly be a complete human.
SO, let’s figure this out together, like please, I’m desperate.
I’ll start with what I know. I know that no one will take you seriously. Not the other teenage girls, not your employers, not your teachers, definitely not the boys around you, not even the older women who were once in your position too. They won’t take you seriously, especially if you’re carrying around a lanyard with five Lego keychains attached to it, a fresh face of makeup, and a smile. Despite this, you’re expected to be serious anyway. And I’m really not trying to say this in a pessimistic way, and I’d like to mention that it’s a bit of a hyperbole.
Here’s what I also know: everything right now is the most serious it will ever be (in a weirdly beautiful way, actually).
Let me explain. First, I’ll define what serious means to me in this context: what we FEEL to be genuinely important and weighs on our conscience, even if it’s objectively trivial. Next, let’s push aside schoolwork because it’s BORING, and it’s serious, we all know it’s serious, we take it seriously, boom, okay, done. Now, onto what I believe is universally the most mentally taxing aspects of being a teenage girl and the justifications I find help me deal.
The loss of time, the fear of losing a great deal of time. And I’m not talking about things like dedicating your life to TikTok. I actually recently deleted TikTok because I felt like it was taking up too much of my time from actually being a real human. I mean I’d spend like 12 hours a day just scrolling, at the bus stop, in bed (ESPECIALLY in bed), in class — I mean it consumed my life (first world fucking problem, I know). But that’s aside the point because what I mean is feeling like you’ve wasted your time. You can devote so much of your time into a friendship you believe is worth your energy only to be painfully proven wrong. You can finally put your trust in a boy, only to realize he’s exactly the same as the last, and you’ve lost all the self-respect you spent so long and worked so hard to gain back. You dedicate the past two years of your life to a program and a university career only to still somehow feel like you’ve chosen the wrong one.
But let me tell you this right now, the pain of not trying or experiencing will never be as painful as the regret of wishing you had done something in the first place. To live and to experience is to become more human. I don’t know much, but I know that without the people I no longer know, I wouldn’t be the person I am now or appreciate the people I choose to know me now as well. I know this counteracts everything I’ve been saying about being vulnerable. Living on this earth with others and keeping it fun is exactly what it’s meant to be about so stop taking it so seriously and getting in your head about it. The failed relationships are essential to helping you learn that your presence is truly a kindness. And sometimes realizing the appreciation of the peace without someone in your life does not negate the fact you may be the villain in their story.
It’s also serious that the future is numbingly, impossibly, and unbearably scary. Every single thing you’re about to face is going to be more daunting than the last. The future is just as real and prominent as the present, and there’s nothing that you can do to stop it. I’m not crazy right, that’s scary to everyone else too? I want to be here forever. As painful, annoying, and depressing as it may be, I don’t know how to be anyone else. Am I really even ready to be taken seriously? Do I want to be taken seriously? People begin expecting more from you and you begin to expect more from others. Obviously, this just brings in more room for disappointment.
Time gets shorter as you get older. It’s inevitable math. I mean, when you’re two, each year is literally half of your life. But when you’re 19, it’s already starting to feel like a blip. In kindergarten, you literally count down the months until your birthday; now it feels like it was just a few weeks since your last. Somehow you suddenly stop looking forward to the next year or even the next month and probably not the next week. The world is permanently spinning, and it doesn’t stop for you or anyone else. But here’s the cool (slightly morbid) thing I tell myself. The crippling realities of the world and the responsibilities you have to take on are actually comprehensible now. It’s like a truck on the highway coming towards you at 120 km/h. The comprehension is 99% of what life is about. Understanding the severity and importance of what’s going on and not just worrying about when Christmas is coming. The challenge, the fear, the unstoppable upcoming experiences are what you decide to make of it. It’ll be awful and cruel but sensational and unique. The future only makes you more of a complete human with a lived life.
Past or future, right now at this moment, I’m a teenage girl. I’ll worry about whether or not to wear a slutty Halloween costume. I’ll stress about whether or not I have pink eye or if it’s just lash glue that’s making my eye so red. I’ll gossip with my friends and hate on people that have stabbed me in the back. I’ll weigh the pros and cons to whether or not I should take shrooms this weekend. If that’s what’s serious to me, then that’s what’s serious to me. I can walk down the street and my world is crumbling around me and I’m so sad and I’m gonna cry, but the leaves are beautifully falling and the music is perfect for the weather and I’m pretty happy (post ovulation symptoms). I guess this is one of those “you either get it or you don’t” moments. I guess the topic is a little more nuanced than I can actually put into words. Wait seriously then, is this a good piece of writing?
Mary Oliver did once say “It is a serious thing to be alive on this fresh morning in this broken world.”
Plus, doesn’t it usually work out in the end anyway?