Sometimes I wonder what my ten year-old self would say if she saw me now, all grown up. Ten was the year of the Koosh Balls, slumbooks, stationery trades, Stay Fresh mints and toasted corned beef. Ten was the year when my favorite color is violet, my first kiss (and love) was my mom, and my life's ambition is to be a zoologist. Ten was the year when I met my two best friends in the whole world.
And now, twenty years later, I sit here in front of a computer, fixing "bugs" that are most definitely not within the scope of the zoological world. I hardly play outdoors, except for when I walk the dogs (even that has become a chore nowadays). I rant about going out in the sun because it makes my skin dark. I rant about the rain because it causes traffic jams. I rant about attending beach events because the salt water damages my hair. And it has been ages since my best friends and I hung out together.
The so-called life around me isn't that great, either. People are always in a hurry to get somewhere and to be somebody, but no one really seems to be enjoying the ride.
Relationships that are expected to last, don't, or worse, just pretending. Relationships that shouldn't happen because they're wrong are the ones given priority. Everyone always has an opinion about something, but no one really cares enough to listen to anybody else but themselves. I often find myself confused, stuck in a moral dilemma, but I have no idea how to work my way out of it.
My ten year-old self won't probably understand what I just wrote above. She'd wonder why I worry about the wrong things, and why I'm doing stuff that I really don't like. She'd wonder why I don't play anymore, why I haven't met my soulmate yet ("You don't believe in soulmates anymore?!" my ten year-old self would gasp, after I reveal this bit to her), and why I don't hang around with my best friends anymore. She'd ask me what do I do in my spare time, and I would show her my smartphone, my cameras, my blogs, and Facebook. She'd wrinkle her nose in disgust and say, "So you've neglected your friends for THAT?!!" pointing to my News Feed.
I would have disappointed my ten year-old self.
A few years ago I might've felt ashamed, or even guilty, at the thought that I would probably disappoint my ten year-old self by showing her what will happen to her after twenty years. But now... I actually don't feel anything. I'd probably just shrug and say to her, "GT.**"
And then it hit me. The worst thing that can happen to you growing up isn't that you realize that the world today didn't turn out to be the world you imagined when you were a child, but that you realize that the world today didn't turn out to be the world you imagined when you were a child... but then, you don't give a fuck anymore.
** Ganun Talaga