Edge of Seventeen

Tomorrow is my 18th birthday…

I guess I can say I’m having an “early adulthood crisis.” Am I ready to give up being a kid? Am I ready to pay bills and do taxes? No. Looking back on my childhood, I’m not ready to grow up.

I had many phases as a child. They range from Blue’s Clues to Vanderpump Rules. I remember sitting at my Franklin the Turtle table in my pink room. I miss how simple my life was back then. I didn't have to worry about college, money, or relationships. Back then, all I cared about was having Barbies in my hands.

I've graduated from kindergarten, but now I’m about to graduate from high school.

Now that I think about it, the only thing that will change for me is the ability to buy lottery tickets and cigarettes. Who says turning the big 1–8 means you’re automatically moved up from the kid’s table? To be honest, I will still maintain the same immaturity level I’ve had since middle school. Sure, I’ll go onto college, find a job, get married, and have kids, but I will carry on the memories of sucking my thumb, singing Britney Spears, and sitting on Santa’s lap.

Fifty minutes until my birthday. I am my parents’ youngest child, and I will be an adult in fifty minutes. My mom will cry. I dedicate this post to my mother because she is a part of every memory I have as a kid. She keeps playing “Edge of Seventeen,” by Stevie Nicks in honor of my coming of age.

Thanks for the memories childhood. Here’s to the past eighteen years as a kid…. Then again, once a kid, always a kid.