Whenever I have time to think, my thoughts usually take me back to my 9th- and first half of my 10th-grade years: what I generally consider “the golden age of my teens.”
During those years, all of my social, academic, and mental games peaked.
I was making all sorts of new friends and grew increasingly closer to old ones. I never had to text people first to find out what was happening or keep in touch since I’d always have people reaching out to me first. I became the “cool older sister I’ve always wanted” to some of my younger friends. I didn’t have to sacrifice my social life to get good grades. I never had a quiet moment with my friends as we were always either laughing, running around, or engaged in exciting conversation. And I got asked out for the first time ever (although I declined), which greatly boosted my already inflated ego.
However, as the months passed, time did what it does best -– it changed things. My grades fluctuated, friends moved, family members passed away, relationships drifted, and naturally, I began changing too.
Back then, what scared me the most was how oblivious I had been to the change.
Even though that golden age wasn’t that long ago -– considering that I’m only in 11th grade right now -– at some point the super social, academically gifted underclassman Abby started feeling foreign to me.
I’ve always taken pride in my ability to entertain others. So once I felt the flirty remarks I used to be able to come up with on the fly start getting caught up in my throat, I panicked.
From then on, I began to spiral. I started to notice myself become more talkative when I used to just sit and listen. My previously layed back and (apparently) mature attitude became more sporadic and childish. The perfectionistic side of my started becoming more okay with the mistakes I made.
It wasn’t just that though. Blame it on faded friendships and reading too much into things, but I thought that I was losing the “me” who people liked, and to me, that was terrifying.
Looking back on it now, I feel like I stayed the same person at heart morally. However, I began to mourn the absence of the person I felt I used to be. So what did I do? I began desperately trying to bring back the “me” I felt I’d lost. However, it didn’t feel right. I used to be more blunt and straightforward with my opinions, unafraid to say things that could potentially hurt others. After a while, I found myself thinking more before speaking, consciously having to put in effort to be more straightforward.
I started forcing out the “cooler” attitude I used to have, over the more open and emotional one I started feeling.
After stretching out this act over a few months, I began to grow exhausted and ended up unintentionally distancing myself from others. However, this time away from people also gave me a lot of time to reflect.
While my personality has changed quite a bit over the years, I feel that I’ve also grown in many ways. While I might not say things as spontaneously as I did before, I’ve started being more thoughtful with my words. While I had to start actually putting effort into academics, I’ve been able to learn how to manage my time better.
Because things are meant to change -– that’s just the way of life. It’d be unfair for me to expect myself to not change with time too.
