03.09.02
You will always find me daydreaming on the bus, during chemistry class, in the lunch tables, on my way to tennis, and everywhere and anywhere else possible. There is just too much to think about and insufficient time. I enjoy moments where I can take a pause in life to think deeply about simple things, make observations, ask myself complex questions, or losing (and finding) myself in the most random subjects and ideas. However, you will never catch me wondering about my future for fun. In fact, the idea of my future does not even pass through my head for a millisecond. That is unless my birthday is coming soon.
These are days when my mind naturally gravitates towards those type of questions that our aunts make when they haven’t seen us for “a long time.” As a person who is very easily disturbed, I feel myself drowning in a giant ocean of uncertainty when questions like What will I study? Where will I live? How will I make a living? Am I prepared to be left alone in the world? Can I take care of myself? appear when I need them the least.
Gerascophobia: The abnormal or incessant fear of growing older or aging.
I recognize that most people are scared of growing up, of the unknown. But I’m not scared. I am terrified. My mom always says that I was born with a gift for complicating things and making others feel my stress (sorry, not sorry). She also says that I should learn to have more moderation. The truth is, I’m not someone who lives in the “grey zone.” I am always either all in or all out. This is why most of the time I end up caring a lot about everyone and everything. Even though this might be considered a virtue, I can get too carried away and don’t know when to let go. Even when it’s hurting me.
One day, for example, there was an assembly for all 9th graders in which subjects like universities and careers were discussed. That same night, I lay in my bed and started questioning my future, overthinking it until a point that I became extremely fatigued by these thoughts and could not feel air entering in my lungs. I thought I had forgotten how to breathe and this belief terrified me even more. What is happening?, I asked myself as I googled if forgetting how to breathe was even possible. For the next hours, I had to tell myself over and over to relax and practice breathing dramatic breathes until they felt natural again and I could finally get some sleep. That was not the first time that it happened and certainly not the last one. Of course, I actually could breathe, and everything was fine later. But my point here is that I frequently let my fears take complete control of me.
This Monday, September 3rd, I’ll be turning 16. As I write these words, I feel eerie inside, as if I just ate something that I can’t quite fully digest. I’ll be 16 next week. I search through distant memories of my childhood and realize that these memories are still vivid and clear in my head. It all feels like yesterday and a long time ago. I ask myself, Did I ever picture myself being who I am today when I was younger? Would the child version of myself be proud of who I’ve become?
I remember my 15th birthday celebrations. I went on a cruise trip with five friends for my #vd15 (Viaje de 15) that started in Miami and went through Puerto Rico, St. Kitts Haiti, La Antigua, and St. Marteens. At that time, I wasn’t very close with all five friends, and I didn’t get along well with one of them. Since I am a person who appreciates a lot (sometimes too much) spending time with myself and having personal space, I thought that as soon we arrived in Miami I was going to feel the urge to return to my room in Lima where I could be alone and in peace. However, I got used to spending plenty of hours in good company and not a single day of the 1-week Royal Caribbean cruising ever felt too overwhelming or tiring for me.
Apart from the cruise trip, my parents had unexpectedly planned a last minute party even though my twin brother and I insisted that it was not necessary. Still, they managed to contact a DJ, decorate with disco lights, order a giant sushi table, call a photographer, and obtain a photo cabin exactly for my the day of my birthday. As my mom was helping me straighten my hair for the big night, I felt the anxiety kicking in. I have always loved going to parties, but this was different. I (and Diego) was the center of attention and the one responsible of meeting everyone’s needs and expectations this time. I had to make sure my friends were having a good time, but I also had to show my parents that I was having fun too, after all, they had worked very hard for this day to be special. At the end of the day, once again, everything turned out better than ok. All of the negative outcomes in both occasions only existed in my head. Now I see that this pattern repeats itself throughout my life.
Perhaps the excitement of my parents and the combination of both celebrations made me feel like turning 15 was a huge deal. For this or whatever reason, I thought that after being 14, my life would change. I had tons of expectations for this new “teenager” lifestyle that I was going to live. However, I am still 5’2, I don’t party every weekend, I will cry myself to sleep like a little girl, my wardrobe screams basic 13-year-old, and I can’t talk to a boy I like without having a mini heart attack. The anxiety of not “living my life to the fullest” or “yoloing” like other teenagers I constantly see on my phone screen and around me, makes me want to go out and experience everything at once. It constantly feels like time is going by too fast and that I am trying to catch up to it.
I need to stop myself to catch my breath. All this thinking, all this chasing, makes me exhausted. It’s like my body is programmed to fuel most of its energy in worrying when it should focus more on living.
Last summer, I read Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom. In one of the chapters, the protagonist and the author discuss aging, specifically, the fear of aging.
“The truth is, part of me is every age. I’m a three-year-old, I’m a five-year-old, I’m a thirty-seven-year-old, I’m a fifty-year-old. I’ve been through all of them, and I know what it’s like. I delight in being a child when it’s appropriate to be a child. I delight in being a wise old man when it’s appropriate to be a wise old man. Think of all I can be! I am every age, up to my own.”
These wise words by Morrie Schwartz have helped me understand that growing up is something inevitable. Therefore, battling against it is completely pointless. Yes, there are times when I want to go back to what being five was like, where my parents held me by the hand and protected me from the world. But there is no way I can do that. I have already experienced being five, and it is time to experience being another age.
I’d be lying if I said I am not scared of what the future will bring any more. I still am. But I’ve learned to manage my anxiety by comprehending what it is that I am precisely feeling, allowing myself to go through this feeling, and then letting it go.
This year I realized that my life is not a movie. It was disappointing at first, but recognizing that not every day would be spectacular and full of great stories, helped me see things with more clarity. I saw things that I couldn’t when I was desperately in search of those “best days” experiences all the time. Small moments in life that seem insignificant at first but when you look back, you realize how important they are. Things like getting lost and finding a beautiful coffee shop, buying my first literature book in Spanish there, discovering a passion for reading and the power of words, hugging my mom after a fight, realizing I love her more than anything, watching the sunset, getting inspired to write something down, sharing it with my friends, connecting through feelings, finding new music on a Friday night, playing it in the car at full volume… These are the moments that I’ve learned to appreciate by taking my time to fully dive into them.
Today is September 3, I am currently on my way home from school staring through the bus window and thinking about the great day I just had. Later, I will meet with a few friends and celebrate my 16th birthday at my favorite restaurant. I realize that next year I’ll be 17, and then 18, and then 19, and so on…. I am still accepting the idea that with every year that passes, it all comes closer to an end. How will it all end? I don’t know. But there is no way of controlling everything that happens next. Sometimes, it doesn’t feel like it, but I’m still the same person I was when I was five (eleven years ago), and ten (six years ago), and 15 (yesterday), but with new insights about life and myself. As I am finishing this blog post, I am coming to the conclusion that growing up is not “running out of time.” It is learning to make peace with the idea that we need to evolve in order to create meaningful lives. I am learning to do this, one day at a time.
