I’ve been reading through it and it makes me feel quite
sad. Though much of it was adolescent attention
seeking with some very cringe worthy content, it’s apparent that I was in
a lot of pain.
I never had a strong sense of what I’m meant to do in this
world. I was a floaty dreamy kid, I’ve always
been a little off the planet. I’d go
about singing and spinning in circles and fantasising that I was really a
princess and soon my true parents (the king and queen of some elegantly named
country) will come and find me and I will live the princess life I was destined
for.
My disconnect with reality hit a wall in my early teens when
I was told that I had “gotten really fat”. I looked in a mirror and for the
first time I saw how my peers saw me. Or
how I thought they saw me, thinking about it now I realise I’d swung to the opposite
side of the pendulum. But I sure wasn’t a princess. Princesses didn’t get fat. It was then that my glass bubble of illusions
and dreams shattered and I hated myself for not being rescued.
So in my teens I felt like I had been robbed of a
childhood. I’m not sure why, I
definitely had a childhood; but because I’d spent my days dreaming and
not being present, I entered my teens with these new “I missed out” and “life
is not fair” paradigms.
And it’s true. Life
is not fair because dreams are not reality.
So I spent much of my teens grasping for this childhood I
seemed to have slept though. And then suddenly,
I wasn’t at school anymore and I had no structure or accountability. I drank a lot, I partied a lot, and I wrote
it all online.
Now I read it with my 27 year old eyes and feel sad for this
poor misunderstood girl. Not
misunderstood by the world, but misunderstood to herself.
I want to give her a hug.
I want to go back in time and let her know that things are
not as significant as she thinks they are.
I want to tell her that she is valuable, and that it does
get easier.
And I want her to know that even though “this is her” and
she “doesn’t care” who reads this, she will be very embarrassed by it one day.
Oh Sammy.
