Growing into my own shoes


They say that your twenties are for discovering who you are. That you feel more settled at thirty, more grounded. But before that its a blur of expectations, attempts and crashing and burning, with tiny snapshots of the person you know you are and will be.

I suppose that's where I am now, in the messy purgatory of post uni, pre responsibilities-and-roots life.

I could leave my job if I wanted to. I could settle half way across the world. I could have a child. I could write a novel.

The choices I'm making now will lead me to the life I will live, whether its the life I want to live or not.

And I'm getting to know myself pretty well.

I know that my room will always be strewn with clothes and books and cameras and half cut out collage pages. I know that I will always be awful at doing my washing before I run out of underwear. I know I am awkward and shy and slightly abrasive when I first meet people, but when I unfurl I am kind of funny, kind of silly, kind of passionate; I am kind. I know that I have no self control with food, whether that be a pile of Christmas chocolate or a bag of pre-cut carrots. I know that I am care about peoples' lives and thoughts and fears and childhoods and family traditions and sexual fantasies and political beliefs. I know that I am blunt and bold and write in winding sentences that I just can't seem to pack all I want into. I know that I have a burning desire to help people, to fix things and change things. I know that I will never remember to pack tampons. I know that I will always tell the changing room attendant that I'm going to get at least one item and then put it back on the way out so they don't think I've wasted their time. I know I watch and listen to music and films over and over and over. I know that when I watch films on my own I will always perform an interpretive dance to the end credits. I know my skin will always be shit. I know that people still like me when I don't wear makeup but that it will always make me more hesitant. I know that my medication helps me function like a human being. I know that I will always create, always write lists, always talk too much and too readily. I know I share more than I should. 

Getting to know myself is exciting. I am learning how to rein myself in and how to push myself.

And this girl that I am getting to know is fucking great.

want to be her.

want people to know her. Crazy chipmunk grin, wonky glasses and all.

Sometimes I catch myself and I am just so happy to be who I am and what I'm doing.

It makes all the other things I'm wrestling with seem manageable, seem workable. This life that I lead is good. This thing I'm becoming is good. Even if that "good" is not how someone else would define it.

I'm growing.

I've grown.

I'm growing.

And isn't it great? 
And scary. 
And great.

This entry was posted on Thursday, January 11, 2018 and is filed under ,. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. You can leave a response.

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