I'm eight years old, dancing around my room with my friends playing "sixteen." We put on high heels, lipstick, and cheerleading uniforms just to prance around, and make up scenarios in our heads of what we're gonna be like in high school. I fantasize about the outfit I am going to wear when Nick Jonas comes to my house and picks me up in the Limo. I take a break from fighting with my older brother only to be glued to the TV because Zac Efron is guest starring on The Suite Life of Zack and Cody. I'm obsessed with the idea of being more than what I am. All I want is to be like my older cousins and get my first boyfriend, put on makeup, go to a homecoming dance, and most of all, be a teenager. Oh, I wish I could grow up!

I'm sixteen now. The cheerleading uniform is uncomfortably tight and there are far too many people in the stands watching me mess up this dance. This lipstick is rubbing off and I look less than picturesque. And most of all now heels -- HURT. Boys are confusing, dances are long, makeup is a hassle, and being a teenager is all of this put together with braces and some acne cream on top, like a cherry on top an ice cream sundae. All I want is to get out of high school and move on to bigger and better things. College. I just want to be away from home, in my dorm, drinking coffee, and meeting people that don't know everything about me from the 2nd grade. I want to be free. Oh, don't you wish you could grow up too?

Two years later, I'm eighteen and have nothing figured out. College is hard, coffee is expensive, decisions are impossible, living alone is weird, and most of all, keeping up with all the hard things life has been throwing my way, is just really hard. I do homework day in and day out, and there are thousands of people on campus, it's terrifying meeting people. I want to go back to my elementary school friends. This is not what I intended when I decided to come six hours from home, but in a way, I've come to love the fact that this is not what I had planned.

This is the first time in my life that I did not know exactly what I wanted my future to hold for me, and I can't decide if that's a good thing or not. Oh, do I want to grow up?

Going back to prancing around my room in the high heels and lipstick seems like a much easier time, but I was wishing away the easy and the fun, waiting on the life I now have. Where I am in my life now is exactly where I need to be. I need to be confused about the future, unsure of the next step, I need to be scared. I've spent my whole life awaiting the future, preparing for how I want things to turn out, only to become disappointed and make the 8 year-old-me frown in my face.

I'm ready to live in the now, with goals, but absolutely no expectations. I need spontaneity and unapologetic fun. I need to start fresh and say goodbye to waiting on Nick Jonas' limo. College is the time we're supposed to 'find ourselves,' but I'm fully prepared to fall down a few more times if that means I'll get to wherever I'm supposed to end up. Ready, Set, Go. Oh, I need more time to grow up.