This is who I am.

I’m always unbalanced and uncoordinated. I’m perceived wrong often, could be my constant furrowed brow. I’m a book junkie,though I only read one genre. I’m a country loving, small town living, wishful thinking kinda girl. I’m sloppy and often unkempt, but I’m clean and a freak about not smelling bad. I love white sheets and sunny days, freshly mowed grass and squeezed lemonade. Sparkles and glitter, black and white, coconut anything and Creedence Clearwater Revival. Family is my everything, I have very few friends and I like it that way. I trust nearly noone, and laugh at anything involving babies. I love hot baths and camping on the water, drive in movies and sleeping in on Sundays. I’m anxious and judgmental, though open mined. Obviously I’m contradictive. I am middle of the road, can see both sides of everything, but when I take a stance I’m stubborn as hell to change it. I am naive and sheltered, this is due to being raised in a small white town. I’m nervous and have low self esteem. I heal people for a living because it gives me purpose, satisfaction, and meaning. Plus its easier to fix someone else, rather than yourself. I lost my best friends at nineteen and I let it jade me. I hold a mean grudge but I would be there for my worst enemy if they needed me. My mom is my best friend, my daughter is my world, moon, and stars. I wish I was more independent and dependable. I’m anti social too often and I hate crowds. I love the mountains and Starbucks. I’m funny when I want to be, honest to a fault, and I hate wearing socks. I wish I was born decades earlier and lived a simpler life. I believe our education system and lack of discipline is ruining our country, but I wouldn’t want to be anything other than American. I hate bacon and love everything Disney, except Mulan. I strive for peace in my life and wish to break out of my box. I hate routine but I fear change. I’m closed off most of the time but when I open up I share my whole life story. I live every day for my daughter and can’t remember what life was like before her. Oh, I also ramble on about myself when opportunity arises.

Sweet, sweet sixteen.

Oh to be sixteen again. Will someone please remind me why I rushed to grow up? Let’s count the reasons why we had it so good at sixteen..
1. Summertime.
How hard is it to go to work on a sunny summer day? Its pure torture. I spent those summers basking in the sun, sneaking beer from my parents fridge, riding around shotgun in a pick up with no bills to pay, no responsibilities to uphold. Camping, fishing, hiking, the lake, the river, the backyard, it didn’t matter, as long as I wasn’t confined by four walls.
2. Licensed to drive.
Terrifying. When I look back at things I, or my friends, did behind the wheel at sixteen I would say its shocking that at such a young age we were trusted with licenses, let alone our own vehicles! But when you are young you are invincible and if you don’t test the limits how will you know what they are? Bumping the most bass you can find, hugging backroad corners double the speed limit, French fries on the floor, beer cans on the backseat, windows down, brake checking the asshole tailgating you… Not a care in the world. Gas was so cheap you could afford to drive around just to pass time, and we did. I drove everywhere that year. The only time I didn’t care to drive was for that coveted shotgun spot next to him.
3. Him.
Young love. It makes the world go round when you are sixteen. Being seen with him at the football game, going to the school dances, heaven forbid you don’t have the same lunch together… First you wear his jacket, then progress to sleeping in his favorite t shirt every night. Stealing kisses every chance you get, sneaking out in the middle of the night because spending your entire day together wasn’t enough, despite what mom thinks. The guy who will someday be the answer to the question ”Mom when did you first fall in love?” He made you laugh, he made you cry. He was your first love and first heartbreak. There will be more after him, but none quite like him. Many will be compared to him, few will measure up to that feeling he gave you. And as an adult when you speak, there is that little spark, the only remains from that fire you once felt in your heart.
4. Moving up on the totem pole.
No longer fresh meat, we were sophomores now. Still finding our spot in the sea of judgment and cliques. This was the year I solidified my friendships and knew who was with me on the rest of the journey through high school. The work was easy, the social aspect wasn’t always so. Those friendships got me through many hard times, were the stars in many good memories, and will never be forgotten. Some lasted loner than others. For me, all had ended by the time I turned 22. Looking at our lives now we all did well for ourselves. We just went in different directions. You couldn’t have convinced my sixteen year old self that these bonds would end, but they eventually did. A few of them I could easily pick back up today. Some of them I will avoid like the plague, it happens. But at sixteen, they were my life.
At sixteen you find out the world is bigger than small town you grew up in. you can’t wait to explore it, taste it, feel it.
So I ask myself, what would you say to your sixteen year old self?
Soak it in. Don’t drink dads tequila, it tastes even wore coming up the next morning. You don’t know how to properly forge moms signature, don’t try to. People will always have opinions of you, just make sure you are proud of yourself at the end of the day. Be nicer. Study math more, mom doesn’t like Ds. Slow down, life won’t ever be this carefree again. Oh to be sixteen again…

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