I’m eighteen today. That’s wild. Crazy. I feel like I’m not old enough to be an adult. Like I can vote? Woah.
I think being eighteen will be good. Super good. In just one whole week I’ll be in New York City for the first time all by myself visiting one of my very best friends. That feels very adult.
I know eighteen is actually very young and little in the scheme of the adult life I will have, but it feels very big and very old and very scary and very new, and I eventually will have to sur come to the ways that adults have to live their lives in order to function as a human being in our society. And that’s a little sad. And also exciting because it’s something new and real and free and I’m excited to discover myself fully on my own super soon.
I was very scared about turning eighteen very recently. I super loved being seventeen. You’re so grown up yet you’re still young so you can get away with a lot of stuff. I think I was afraid that when I turned eighteen, I would no longer be aloud to make mistakes. I know this is silly and very untrue, but it felt true. Still feels a little true.
I know when I’m old I’ll look back on this time in my life and think fondly of how big and grown up I thought I was and how silly that is, because I am so young and so naive and I have a whole big long life to live with so many experiences that I can’t even comprehend. That’s comforting. I want that. I want to think fondly back on how I am now. I like how I am now. I like the idea that everything I think now is silly and untrue and pure and young. I want to experience everything I can and be the best that I can be and love what I do and love myself as I am.
I am changing! I am growing up!
Woo hoo for eighteen year of life!