teenager.
As my 16th birthday approaches - nine days! - I've been thinking a lot about that word.
About what it means to be a teenager, how the knowledge of my age affects my actions.
Teenagers are so caught in the middle. All the time I feel myself being pulled in twenty different directions and I try to push myself into all of them, and end up looking like a mess with my thoughts and feelings scattered all about.
I'm still a kid, I know that but sometimes I also reach for adulthood. That shows in my style.
One day, I'll search for the perfectly quirky, childish accessory as I meander nostalgically through childhood memories. And the next, I'll reach desperately for a timeless, sophisticated style.
Although lately, with spring exploding in front of our eyes I find myself wanting to climb trees and fall in the dirt and lie in the grass more, to feel a sort of natural rebellion that is eons away from the cool and collected outfits seen marching down city streets.
As my 16th birthday approaches - nine days! - I've been thinking a lot about that word.
About what it means to be a teenager, how the knowledge of my age affects my actions.
Teenagers are so caught in the middle. All the time I feel myself being pulled in twenty different directions and I try to push myself into all of them, and end up looking like a mess with my thoughts and feelings scattered all about.
I'm still a kid, I know that but sometimes I also reach for adulthood. That shows in my style.
One day, I'll search for the perfectly quirky, childish accessory as I meander nostalgically through childhood memories. And the next, I'll reach desperately for a timeless, sophisticated style.
Although lately, with spring exploding in front of our eyes I find myself wanting to climb trees and fall in the dirt and lie in the grass more, to feel a sort of natural rebellion that is eons away from the cool and collected outfits seen marching down city streets.
And today, I accidentally got in touch with that teenage rebellion you always hear about.
Ripped tights and cutoff shorts, no big deal, I thought, a little messy but whatever.
And then my father throws a fit. "You can't wear that to school! Look how trashy that is! No no no!"
Oh well, Dad, see you later. I'm wearing it anyway.
It was a scene straight out of some cliche high school tv show.
And when I told my friends about it, I asked them whether it actually was trashy.
"Well, uhh...I guess I see where he's coming from."
Oops! Well, I liked the outfit so I told myself I was just getting in touch with my own little teenage rebellion...sure, it was a lie. I have nothing to rebel against.
But it's fun to tell myself that anyway!
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