I’ve spent my entire life waiting to become.
When I was a little girl, I thought I would have it figured out by the time I was 16. I glorified 16. It sounded like such a fun and sophisticated age. I would have a boyfriend and a job and a car. I would know what I was doing. I’d be confident and capable and fun and smart. By 16, surely, I would’ve arrived. I would’ve already become. Continue reading