When I was sixteen, maturity was just another term I've used, but never fully felt. It was a word I hadn't grasped. Until college, that is.
You see, at sixteen, I'd grown up in my own bubble. Life was familiar and comfortable. Everything felt safe, and relatively the same. Sure, I'd meet new people here and there. However, I'd been in the same place for sixteen years. There were constant changes, although my surroundings weren't necessarily new. Yes, friends came and went, but the overall feel of the town stayed the same.
How can we grow if we've never experienced life outside of what we know?
When I entered college I realized, once perspectives change, we change.
When I was sixteen, every opinion mattered. Every comment on what I wore, how much makeup I had on, how my hair was styled that day, it all mattered. Why?
Why did we let cliques and social rankings take over our lives? How come we let our peers influence our every move?
If only I knew then, what I know now.
People won't treat you differently if you forget to put on eyeliner one day, or if you choose to wear sweats to class. Most people won't notice that tiny pimple on your chin that is barely there, but to you is somehow huge. No one cares if you were "cool," or "weird" in high school.
To be honest, the only one who cares is you.
I don't know about you, but at sixteen, I also despised being alone. Whether walking to class, studying, or eating, I would need to be with someone at all times. I had to do everything with my friends. Now, alone time is crucial. I realized I do not need to rely on my friends for everything. Sometimes you have to do things on your own, and that's okay.
Nevertheless, when I was sixteen, I didn't genuinely appreciate my parents and older sister for all they've done. It wasn't until my first semester at college it hit me; I don't know everything. In high school, what brand of laundry detergent to use, or getting out my stains were never a worry. If I needed help with a project or homework, they were there. If I was upset, they instantly were there to comfort me. They've wiped my tears, instead of their own, and I didn't fully value that small act until recently.
Looking back, I would've hated sixteen-year-old, melodramatic me. I was a naive, teenage girl, dealing with relationships, angst, and pain. However, I grew up without acknowledging it. Sure, I didn't fully mature at that age. I was just a teenager (and still am). I'm constantly expanding my mind and experiencing new things. I'm changing every day.
When I was sixteen, I was in an identity crisis. I wasn't sure who I was, or who I should be. At nineteen, I still don't have the answer. I realized that's okay. College is the time to truly discover myself, and I cannot wait for what life brings me next.
