Transition.

Just imagine, next year i would turn 20. 20 is like a stepping stone to adulthood, it's when the final pages of our teens are turned and we began a new chapter, another milestone. When i was 10 and thought of myself as ten years older, i looked to my mum and thought how much i wanted to be like her, how she's always calm in chaotic situations, that one sure presence that wouldn't change, that one person my sister and i would run to when a problem arises. My prime example of a grown and matured woman was my mum, and i thought in ten years time, maybe i would be, at least, a quarter of what she is to me.

But even being a tiny bit like my mum seems impossible to me now, just because of the way i am, how i still feel like a little girl in so many ways regardless of my age. i don't want to grow up so fast because the little girl in me can't catch up, there's so much i don't know and don't understand and i feel like my knowledge of this world is so limited, how can i age into adulthood when i still lack in so many things?

i think all of us has a little part deep down inside knowing that we wouldn't want to grow up if given the chance, for whatever reasons. But, you know, whenever i think of next year and how i would no longer be deemed as a teen, how the world would suddenly expect of you to become someone responsible, someone that would not be viable to all the excuses parents makes for their teens because of their 'senseless' behaviours. "Oh, she's just going through a phase", "Oh, she's just a teen", "raging hormones, y'know?" None of those would be applicable to us anymore, we would have to take full responsibility for our actions.

But, i think those expectations can't be met in my case. I don't think so. Whenever i think of next year and what it would bring, i would always think of my ten-year-old self, how that little girl wanted to take everything by storm because she is finally, grown up. How she viewed herself as she progressed into that unknown realm of adulthood, where everyone seemed to be fully equipped with wisdom and knows no wrong, where decisions are made composedly and they always seem to know the right things to say. That ten year old saw herself that way, perhaps a happier, livelier version, but one that would not be flustered easily, one that isn't really afraid of anything, one who is pretty, gorgeous even, one that's pleasant to be with and the life of a party.

I know i'm not any of those things however. I would never make heads turn to begin with, i'm still so scared, shamefully scared of countless things, i still get flustered at the worst possible moment, in short i don't think i've even come close to that image my 10 year old self managed to conjure up in her head. That 20, bubbly, confident and radiant woman. The truth is i can never see myself that way anymore. And sometimes i just wonder if that little girl who imagined herself to be that illusion she imagined, how she would react when she finds out the future her isn't what she thought it would be?

I don't know, but one thing's for sure, that ten year old kept hoping. Hoping for a better future in a better world. She kept hoping, and i guess that's where i should learn from her, to never stop hoping, to continue believing even though i know nuts about whats ahead of me, of what i am bound to face one day. Hoping, somehow, as day passes, as my body grows, so does my mind; that with everyday experiences i learn how to cope with this world, and that someday, when i look back, i can honestly say that i've grown, grown to become whoever i'm meant to be.