Have you ever found yourself standing in a group of similar-minded people to find yourself slowly becoming lost in your thoughts wondering what they are even talking about? That is an everyday occurrence for this muddled millennial. I’ve been titled “mom”, an “old soul”, or even claimed to have been “born in the wrong generation”; all very kind ways of being told I just don’t correctly fit in with my peers. I’ve come to accept these titles and wear them as if they were a Tiffany diamond embedded tiara, I love being overly mature.
As I find myself racking my brain while drinking a cup of coffee on my back porch, wearing a matching pajama set, and listening to James Taylor, I found the solution to my ongoing quarter-life crisis: I suck at being a teenager.
Much like trying to squeeze my thighs into my jeans from freshman year, or even watching an entire Netflix series; it just doesn’t work for me. Believe me, I have attempted everything to stay true to my seventeen year old roots, I bought high top converse, even though I think they are hideous, I set an Electronic Dance Music radio station as a preset in my car, I have even tried to keep a “snap streak” going with my friends, in the end, all of my attempts fail and I find myself becoming more and more of an outcast. I never take pictures of anything, much less do I remember to properly edit them and post them on my Instagram. I am a total idiot when it comes to “popular posting times”, don’t know the correct follower to following ratio I am supposed to have, and definitely will never understand the sorcery of VSCO. Maybe I don’t live an adventurous life full of brightly colored smoothie bowls, and views from my hiking trips. Instead, I sit alone in restaurants with my computer, writing and occasionally looking up from time to time to make sure they aren’t trying to close just yet; totally snapchat worthy.
As I have admitted that I am very peculiar for my age, I still have fun. I love my teenage friends and love sharing our differences. I love that they support me for all of my aspirations and quirks. I don’t miss a beat, I have fun being exactly who I am and never miss a moment to better myself and learn things I possibly wouldn’t have learned if I was too scared of what people would think of me. When I look back my on my youth I won’t have any daunting regrets, I will smile and laugh for all of my adolescent worries in ten years, or even a week, will have no effect on my life.
Being the old soul isn’t that bad, I mean think; I’m the perfect girl to take home to mom because I probably share the same music taste, celebrity crushes, and personal style as her. Long live the mom jeans. Oh, and Richard Gere, he’s a total babe.
