Once upon a time, I was 10. I was sitting in the back of Mrs. Manker's fifth grade classroom pretending to listen to her "Oh so interesting" math lesson with a book hidden in my lap. Mrs. Manker announces lunch time, and for the millionth time in my life, I am walking to the cafeteria, book in hand, alone, sitting in a small booth, alone, and then at recess, reading my book on the curb alone. In fifth grade I was not shy, I was not dumb, I was not depressed. I merely had no friends. I was 10 years old and I was eager to go to middle school, make a real friend and grow up.
Once upon a time, I was 13. I was sitting in the back of Mr. Marks eighth grade math class copying the homework down from my best friend's notebook. Tomorrow she would copy mine. After class we walk together to band practice, then to lunch where we would sit with just each other, because in our world, everyone else sucked. Sure, we had a few other acquaintances, but no one we could trust like we trusted each other. Then the day would end and I would be one day closer to high school, because in high school people would suck less. We'd be more mature and I'd be able to make countless friends. I was 13 years old, craving attention and ready to grow up.
Once upon a time, I was 17. It was free period and I was sitting in the back of the band room in a giant circle of friends. There were at least 10 of us, playing dumb games, surfing Facebook, gossiping and goofing off. I had so many friends, I never ran out of people to talk to. We were both the "Goths" and the "Nerds." There was a lot of drama, crying and fighting, but in the end it always worked out because we found something new to focus on. We all pretended to hate our teachers, our peers, school spirit and even life sometimes. These were my friends, but I wouldn't trust any of them with any of my secrets. I vowed from that point on I didn't need nor want a large circle of friends. When I left for college I would only keep the friends that actually cared, not the ones looking for gossip. I was 17 years old, I was graduating high school soon and I couldn't wait to go to college and grow up.
Turn the page, I'm now 20 years old. I'm sitting cross-legged on my bed at 2 a.m., budgeting my bills and paychecks for the month, registering for summer classes so I can maybe graduate before I'm 25 and setting my alarm for my 8 a.m. work shift. I have three close friends, but I'm lucky if I have enough time to text them between school and working two jobs. I go home every day exhausted, and I can't wait for the day I get my degree, a big girl job and make more than minimum wage. I think back to the days where my biggest worries were "How many black t-shirts do I own?" or "How many people know my name?" And I miss the days when I didn't have to work every weekend, but instead go roller skating or to the movies. I look at the path I took in those days to get where I am now, all the work I put in to be who I am and I realize I wouldn't change a second of it. The me I am now is exactly the me I want to be. I am 20 years old, I'm living on my own, I'm happy, and for the first time ever, I don't want to grow up faster. I want to pause and stay right here.
