Today as I was interviewed for the most important job of my 18-year-old life, and offered the job, I realized that I am not the youthful, colorful teenage girl that I used to be. Technically I am still considered a teenager, but I kind of came to the realization that I'm turning into a full fledged woman. But how does one actually know when they "aren't a little girl anymore, mom."?

My mom and my grandmother always used to call me a "flower child." I was always outside, and I grew up to do the same. Playing guitar, exploring, long matted hair with a dread underneath (not a joke). That was me, and is probably how many people will remember me because these traits were sewn into me. I realized that I wasn't myself when I just recently got excited over a thrilling pair of Ann Taylor crop pants that a friend lent me and I decided my long hair was no longer acceptable and cut off a literal foot of my hair. What is wrong with me? I thought. This cannot be right. This isn't me I don't care about name brand work pants and I love my long hair. What happened? Unfortunately, growing up can act as a seam ripper and rip those stitches of traits that were sewn into you over the years, but some stitches are harder to rip.

Although my seams were ripped from my long, matted hair along with many other things, there are just some stitches you can't rip. I like to refer to these things as the 'main stitches.' Just like the necessary stitches for any typical piece of clothing, the underarm, collar. side, hem, etc., we need our main stitches to fully function as a human being. My seams for art will never be ripped, along with my love for the outdoors, guitar, thrift stores, Disney movies, coffee mugs, and Robert Downey Jr. Some things cannot be unstitched because they hold on to a piece of who you were. Your character never wants to forget. My stitch for Disney movies never wants to forget the child in me. My stitch for Robert Downey Jr. never wants to forget my love for him in middle school and high school. My stitch for thrift stores never wants me to forget that sometimes the best things come from second hand places and that's okay. My stitch for coffee mugs (and the wonderful liquid that fills them) never wants me to forget the real reason why I am motivated to wake up in the morning.

Don't get me wrong, growing up is so scary and I am so not ready, but it feels safe and okay to grow up because you have your stitches to remind you of the things you used to love and still love. All these things make up who you are, holding you together and making you who you are and always will be.