I can remember being little, free of responsibility and was so carefree it would take your breath away. I can remember being little, full of imagination and not allowing others to tell me what I dreamed wasn’t real.
Because now, all I want to do is be that imaginative little girl again.
Because when I was little, all I wanted was to be a grown-up. Being older meant freedom. Being older meant that there was certainty, there would be no more asking questions – I would have all the answers. Because I used to think that adults held all of those answers. But all of that, all of the belief and understanding was grown out of naivety.
But as soon as I became the adult that I am now, I realized that there is more uncertainty than ever before. Sure, we are all given choices, we are able to do what we please, but with every choice there are more risks. When you are little, you are still full of elasticity to make mistakes because everything is still so bright – your future doesn’t have to be reflected in your childhood errors. Your decisions aren’t detrimental, most of them won’t go on to define the person that you grow into.
You can fuck up over and over again – because you can get up just as quickly.
But the older we get, the more that you understand that we don’t have an infinite amount of time. Each choice became a liability on your life, they hold more power.
You realize that you aren’t free.
Because now, all I want to do is be that little girl whose smile is brighter than the sun.
Because I wake up, look at myself in the mirror and think – is today the day that it could all be over? Is today the day everything changes? Is today the day?
Because over and over I am reminded of the uncertainty of my own life, and I have never been more scared. I want to hop back into bed, I want to close the door – only to open it when the lights flash and I am taken back in time.
Because I would rather regress into that little girl when the only fears she had were the monsters that hid under her bed.
Because the monsters that I live with now don’t just hide in the dark, they stand before me each and every day. I wonder if I am doing the right thing. I wonder if I will ever have the life I desire. I wonder if – and that’s not how anyone should live.
I can’t tell which path is the right one – I can hardly even decide if there really is a path to take.
Of course, you can’t see the war that rages inside of me.
You see a woman who is trying. You see someone who is driven, passionate, craving more. But that is the beauty of perception, isn’t it? You can only see what is in front of you – you can’t feel what I feel. I can wear nice clothes and heels, put make-up on. I can list off my accomplishments, achievements, strengths – but does any of it really mean anything at the end of the day? Am I really going to go somewhere or am I just going to continue on the circular path that I have been travelling on?
Of course, this path seems the best route – list off all of the things that make one brilliant because it will justify the loop that someone else perceives as “going places.” Because at the end of the day, the only doubtful voice will be the one inside your head.
Because we are all told, over and over again, to fake it until you make it. We have this mentality right from the get-go as if it is some universal advice that is given to adulthood.
But it’s such a LIE.
When do you fucking make it? Where are you going anyway?
Do you ever wake up and just know?
Do you ever know that you are doing the right thing?
Is the person you love the right one? Did you marry the right one?
Who are you? What are you striving to be?
I just see more questions.
Because what I am doing right now, is just being. I am numb to the experience of what life holds because I am trapped sitting in a place that only consists of just getting by.
The days go by faster and faster. The accomplishments that are on my list slow down, the check-offs are far and few between. I am left feeling empty – why?
But I am told that this feeling is completely unique to being in your 20s. But mine are coming to an end in a few years – will I still feel this way when I cross the threshold into my 30s? Will I still feel this scared?
I am told to just hold on, bear down. Because it will get better.
But that’s what they told me when I was little.
That’s the spoonful of sugar they always feed you.
The only truth I know is that the future isn’t as promising as I once thought. It is full of the unknown, the uncertain.
Because we are all travelers, wandering through the streets of our own minds, marching to the beat. No one knows the way. We are waiting for the songs to end – the silence to come.
But we will fight through.
What else would we do?