As children I don't think we really appreciated childhood. We went to school, played, complained about our bedtime and looked forward to growing up. Back then, time went really slowly- or at least it felt that way. Those were the days...
Then came that awckward age between childhood and adolescence. You know, "the ugly stage". At this time we wanted to grow up, we wanted to go to high school, we wanted to date, we wanted our breasts to grow and the braces to come off and there was no greater compliment than someone saying that you looked 13 when you really were 11.
Next came adolescence and with it came high school. Aside from that insane curfew I was given, I didn't have very many rules to abide by so I had the make-up, the clothing, the toys and the car. I wanted to be older. We all did. We wanted to date, older guys were cool. The breasts grew so we got attention. To get into clubs we got fake IDs. We wore make up and clothing to make us seem older because it was cooler to look 18 than it was to be 15.
Of course, later on we turned 18 and by then some of us were in college, some were still in High School; but the fact of the matter is that suddenly being a college girl, if not college-girl like complete with the pea coat, messenger bag and Chai tea in one hand was the way to be. We wanted to be older, we wanted to be classy, and we wanted to seem smart. One of the goals was to be able to go to a bar and not be IDed because you looked like you were 21.
Some of us graduated from college, some didn't; but regardless we each had a first real job. A job that paid the bills. A job that had us wearing suits and looking like we were playing dress up. We were maybe 21, 22 or 23 but we wanted to be able to fill in those suits well. To get the life experience that would make the suits look good. Maybe to be 24 or 25 and then stay there.
But 25 came and went and so did 26 (well, I am still 26). Suddenly time has started to fly by. Somewhere along the way all those nights we spent partying like 21 would never come and that once it came it would never end, left a little unnoticeable scar on our face. All the make up clogged our pores and all the smiles left their traces.
One day we woke up and there was a strand hair that was once brown or red or black or blonde and is now silver. Shortly thereafter there were 2 or 3 or 4.
Suddenly eating all the crap food doesn't suit us as well as it used to. Maybe it gave you an ulcer, maybe it makes you fat, maybe it just doesn't taste as well as it used to.
Being older isn't what you thought it would be. Though it feels great on the inside, in the outside it's taking it's toll. So we want to look younger again and it seems like we start the same process but backwards. We dye our hair, and make the first appointment with the plastic surgeon to get the breasts we wanted or suck out the fat that all those hours of spinning and kickboxing can't seem to get rid of. We measure each wrinkle and stock up on make up products to cover them up and wait until the day when we might need our first facelift because if Kim Cattrall looks like that at 50 we need to look like that too.
We forgot that we wanted to be older and that we are a reflection of every choice we made, of every cigarrette we smoked, of every drink we had, of every hour we worked and every fry we ate. And we hate that we age because society makes us feel like being older is not okay.
But it is.
I think it's beautiful.
I have gray hair and I look at it and think to myself that whatever stressed me out enough to give me a gray hair, is probably worth rememebering. My body is an extention of my photo album and good or bad it's me with my bagagge. I wanted to be older so much that I may not have enjoyed my youth as much as I could have. But I am older now and I learned a few lessons on the way here.
I am not going to be so stupid as to not enjoy my adulthood as much as I should thinking back on what once was but will never again be.