We sat around my parents’ table. To my right, my 18-year-old niece preparing to go to college. To my left, my 97-year-old grandmother. Thousands of experiences between them – lessons learned, dreams fulfilled, storms weathered. And still more to come.
We sat at parents’ table and laughed until we cried, shared silly and embarrassing memories, and even handed out a few warnings. Most of our memories were centered around our college experiences but there were a few high school doozies thrown in there for good measure. When the laughter died down, my brother asked:
“If you could repeat any 4 consecutive years of your life, without changing a thing, which 4 years would you choose?”
The responses were varied:
My early 20’s.
The first years of motherhood.
There’s no way in HELL I’d relive high school. There isn’t enough money on God’s green earth to motivate me to return to the nightmare that was my 14 year-old self. High school was a 4 year physical and emotional clusterf*%k!
I’ll give you one guess as to which of the above responses was mine.
Why would anyone go back to a time when life was so confusing, our bodies and minds were on the fast track to Crazy Town, and we spent 90% of our time worrying about what everyone else thought about us; when, in fact, they were much too busy thinking about themselves to give us a second thought? Hell to the no. I would never go back to high school.
Wait a minute… Age 14. Confusion. Hormones. Emotional roller coaster. Insecurities. Self-doubt.
Hold the phone! 14 is sounding awfully familiar… Oh, I know!
14 feels an awful lot like 41…
I’m definitely older. I might be a little wiser. But I guess there will always be parts of me that remain 14.
That’s just my normal.