i don't wanna grow up:

when i was about 15 or 16 my mum was INSISTENT that i needed counseling. what i NEEDED was a mum who listened and liked me. but that’s a whole different blog post.

so…needing counseling. i will admit that i wasn’t the easiest teenager but i was not in need of intense counseling (as later evidenced by being kicked out of counseling for having it too together). For years i was drug from one counselor to the next, hating each one in turn, flat out refusing to talk to some (are you kidding me? you expect me to discuss my life in detail with a guy wearing jeans tucked into his cowboy boots? who’s the crazy one there?). i did end up finding one counselor when i was pregnant with my oldest son that i LOVED. she’s the one that not only kicked me out of counseling, but then asked me to go speak to other kids because i had such a good handle on what was going on. turned the tables on that one!

my mum was CONVINCED that i was fucked in the head though, so she never gave up shoving one therapist after another down my throat. at one point she decided that i should talk to my youth pastor. yes, i was in a youth group growing up. shut it. well, this particular youth pastor and i didn’t see eye to eye on much...hell, ANYTHING. i HATED, LOATHED this man. his wife was sweet, i liked her, but he was an egotistical pompous ASSHAT of the highest degree. HATED this man. this is the guy that found out i was pregnant and made me go before the whole youth group to confess my sins. no, i’m not kidding. he thought they should hear about it from me before hearing about it in the hallways of school. DID IT MATTER IF THEY HEARD ABOUT IT AT ALL? fuck that shit. scars. seriously. SCARS.

so. it’s always good to force your (normal) teen to talk to someone they hate. good plan. i remember sitting in his office for one session just SEETHING about how he was mocking me and openly making fun of me in front of my mother. at one point he asked what my plans were for when i grow up. i looked straight at him and said “I WILL NEVER GROW UP.” and i know that sounds a little peter pan, but i followed it up with this: “if being “grown up means being like you, then i chose not to grow up, ever. i would rather stay the way i am now.”

and i know some of you are rolling your eyes at my naïve teen angst, but it’s true, and it’s stuck with me to this day. if THAT is what it means to be a grown up i NEVER, EVER want to be one. i don’t want to be the person that always knows best and is better than everyone else. i don’t want to be the person to laugh in a kids face and tell them they’re stupid (yes, my youth pastor told me that), i don’t want to be the one to make a teen in a not so great “christian” house (or any house) feel even worse about themselves. i don’t want to be the one to openly mock a child in front of a parent who will never, ever, even in the worst circumstances stand up for their own child.

time has passed, and with september and the inevitable 30 drawing closer, i realize that i am a grown up now. yes peter pan, wendy has become an old woman. but what kind of grown up am i? i’m the grown up I WANT TO BE. i’m the grown up i wish was around when i was a kid. i’m a secure, confident, happy (most days anyway) independent woman. i know who i am and what i like. i’m not afraid to be myself even though at times i feel pressure to “fit in” or be what people expect a grown up to be, i’m not what “growns ups” are supposed to be. i’m not a suit and tie and SUV person. i’m not the standard cookie cutter khaki capris and sweater sets middle aged mom. i’m the grown up that isn’t afraid to talk to kids and tell them the truth. i’m not afraid to carry a “kid” purse that says “i hate people” instead of a $150 designer name purse. i like having my own funky taste in clothes and hair and letting myself express it. i like having tattoos that i designed myself that show who i am and what i’ve been through. i like eating cereal for dinner instead of a betty crocker cook all day roast. i like watching cartoons with my kids at night and wearing purple nail polish and downloading disney songs onto my mp3 and dancing like an idiot in my kitchen.

but slowly and surely i’m noticing certain “grown up” things creeping in- i have fancy furniture now. i’m passing over long islands for a good glass of wine. i signed up for home/life/auto insurance instead of just the standard auto. i have a retirement account and 10 years seniority at work. i budget my paychecks and make sure all my bills are paid. i make (and keep) regular doctor and dentist appointments for the kids. i’ve helped people figure out big problems in life. i’ve figured out my own big problems. but i’ve done it on my terms. i’ve become a grown up, yes, but not the “grown up” that i was expected to become. so, part of my naïve teen was wrong, but thankfully more of her was right.

i don’t want to grow up. and i know i will, but i never will.