Original Writing

Growing Up

I was desperately craving adulthood when I was fourteen. Five years later, adulthood has well and truly hit me, and I start to think of how naïve my fourteen year old self was. I thought the kids with the tight jeans and the long hair were so cool, with their attitude so desirable, so superior. I forever gave my mother a hard time for treating me like a kid, but I know in my heart I still want her to treat me the same way; growing up isn’t everything it seems to be, but we are so enraptured by this promise of being “grown up.” Growing up and being grown up, I’ve found, are two entirely different things indeed.


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