Official forsake-ment of teenager-hood

People asked me what retarded things I was planning on doing before I was officially not a teenager anymore. I got some interesting advice (most of which I decided not to take) and it got me thinking. How will I act now that I am no longer of teen-age??

My answer, after much pondering, was that I will act very much the same as I do now.

I guess I've always felt old, in a way. My older siblings are separated from me by drastic age differences. Youngest children of my age and circumstances generally either act much younger than their older siblings, becoming spoiled and distanced from them, or they hurry and grow up as fast as they possibly can, so they can befriend them. I feel like I've chosen the latter. Not that I haven't been terrifically blessed (okay, okay . . . so a little bit spoiled.) but I've always wanted to be closer to my siblings. Some of the hardest times in my life were during that awkward phase where I wasn't cute and little enough to be a novelty, but I also wasn't quite old enough to be a real friend. As soon as I started being included in their "sibling bonding time" I relished every moment of it. Even this year.

Each Christmas, when we all get together at someone's house and wedge ourselves in (this year it was five siblings, three in-laws, two parents, and twelve young children in a fairly small Las Vegas home) the siblings all get together for a dinner. We hire babysitters (well, now we do. I used to do it.) and go out to eat and just talk. Talk the way grown-ups talk. The moment I was invited on one of these excursions was a truly delightful one. I don't think it happened until I was sixteen or seventeen, and it became one of my most treasured memories.

So, yes, I suppose I've grown up quickly. Onto the next topic. How am I NOT grown-up?

Well, for one thing, I've only got twenty years of life experience, and not twenty-five or thirty or sixty or ninety like other people do. Naturally, this is going to make my choices in certain situations less . . . intelligent. But somehow, I think I'll get by just fine.

Maturity? That's not really it, either. Aside from my nieces and nephews (who still insist that I look like I'm eighteen or less) most people seem to think I'm older than I am. This could be my grammar and vocabulary, my useless stores of information, my general confidence . . . but most likely it's just that they've never seen me when I'm hyper and acting retarded.

I want to grow up, because I want the life experiences associated with being grown-up. Especially a family, if I ever get one. If not (and now that I am officially at an age where instead of saying "you have plenty of time!!!" my dad is now saying, "well, you need to find the guy first . . .") I will very likely continue to be the crazy maiden aunt for the rest of my life. I'll take turns living with each of my siblings and their kids (and then their kids) and I'll write ridiculous romance novels that will describe lives very unlike my own and foster a love for opera in each of them.

But I would prefer not to.

However, as my dad used to say . . . I have plenty of time. And I still have no idea what the Lord has in store for me and my life. I used to be so sure of everything! So sure that I wanted to . . . to go on a mission, to study in India, to be an opera singer . . . and suddenly it feels like I'm doubting every single thing I've ever wanted (except to be a novelist--that's never going to change). Basically . . . I'm not sure of anything anymore. Except the Lord--that he lives, and loves me.

I'll get through life just fine. It's been a breeze so far. And now I think I'll finish contemplating and go finish off some homework before I leave for class.

All my love,

Mary-Celeste