I think I was about 12 when I realized that I would one day become like all those pretty older girls in books and TV. All my fantasies were not unattainable dreams, rather just looking forward to the future.
That was mind blowing. But in a good way, I always wanted to shed my awkwardness and become what I knew I had the potential to be.
When I was about 14 I started getting really into "Sweet 16" books and those often unrealistic 'coming of age' novels. My personal library was packed with lite romance books. With horrible titles, too, I think 99 % had the word "love", "romance", "date" or "16" in the title.
Looking back, I probably had a ridiculous vision of the future. But it was good-ridiculous. I wrote teen angst-y short stores and poems. And I planned out my Sweet 16 bash with all my best friends.
I was SET!
I should have been embarrassed, but all the same. . .
Then I got sick. I felt like not only all my dreams were being ripped away, but all my potential was. I had always been a bookworm, rarely venturing out of the confines of my room, but I had lately been getting very into swimming, and I was doing 20 minutes or more of laps a day. I finally got a fashion sense, no more outsider for me! And I found out how to live on the outskirts of popularity.
I had even gotten into a few of those middle school romances. You know, I like him, he likes me, you get all flushed and tell each other, then nothing comes of it. It's not all bad, just. . . practice.
And I got sick. So, I never had my beautiful sweet 16 party, I never had a bash with my best friends. I had a fine day. Cards and presents and good wishes.
It's not important that I had to spend most of the day in bed, resting, so I would be well enough to go out to dinner. And while it was honestly fun, I had the feeling that it was a little fake. Half people trying to pretend they were whole.
And when my crush wished me happy birthday I couldn't tell him I liked him, like I promised myself I would by my 16th birthday, because what would he want with a "broken" girlfriend?
I was supposed to become beautiful. But that didn't happen. I've gained weight, because I'm too sick to exercise. And I have a sallow complexion because I don't go outside much. I've cut my hair, because it was too much upkeep to keep it long. And my great fashion sense is put to waste, because I rarely change out of boxers and a tank top. I finally got my pretty room decorated just the way I want, but I don't have friends to show it to.
I KNOW that despite everything, I'm still luckier than most people. And even though it's hard I DO count my blessings. It's just hard to wake up everyday with the proverbial bar so high above my head. It's hard to look in the mirror and see that none of my dreams have come true.
Some "sweet 16"
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