Stage #8 - The Blowing Gesture of Giving Up
One day I find myself laying next to my mother. Her breathing is mellow, flitting my hair tenderly. I know she's there. I can feel her warmth.
She's the very woman I never confide in, but that's what I find myself doing any way.
"I don't want to grow up, mom. I'm a little...afraid. I just want to stay right here, forever."
My mom briefly turns towards me. I barely reach her neck but I can feel her gaze on me. She reaches for my hair and gently ruffles it.
Then she tells me, "Tina, there's no way you can escape it. There's no need to be afraid when you know the way to be safe all throughout. It takes a lot of endurance, but it works. It worked out for me, your grandma and even your cousin, Angie. You either choose right, or wrong."
Mom tells me that teenagers are the wavering daffodils in windy fields. Apparently our minds are swaying, vulnerable to everything and anything around us.
But unlike the daffodils that keep moving, we get to choose our paths, fighting the wind over the mind. Because while some knowingly or unknowingly go down the wrong road: drugs, parties and booze, some of us, knowingly or unknowingly go down the right.
And whether we know it or not, it is up to us to choose our journey.
In the end, there isn't anybody strong enough to save us from ourselves.
And maybe it's these bewildering thoughts that creep into teenager's minds that were so ignorant long ago that make such a natural process as growing up seem so terrifying.
Because most of us when growing up are bound to go wrong.
"It's just part of being a teenager." smiles mom.
YOU ARE READING
Being Me
Short StoryThere is a girl who battles her own self. All because of her insecurities. There is a girl who gets into pointless fights with her parents. All because of growing up. There is a girl who fails to see her flair. All because of herself. This girl is...
