the roots of me

Here’s to cake pops, confetti, and memories.

In  mere hours I will be sixteen-years-old… I’m not sure how I’m suppose to feel about this. Relieved? Because I don’t have to explain why I’m fifteen going into my junior year of high school and sophomore year of college. Accomplished? Because I survived my sophomore year (honestly, if life were the olympics, i’d a gold medal in not compromising). When I was in middle school I always fantasied about turning sixteen and having more freedom. Whether it was being able to wear more makeup or drive. I thought these things would make me feel grown up. Unfortunately, the past few years I had to grow up faster than I thought.

I took on my responsibilities and dedicated myself to things that made me second guess my priorities. I started shifting things to fix my schedule and it started to take a toll on my everyday life. So, like a big girl, I had to muscle through it.

Once the hands on the clock point to twelve tomorrow I’m sure I won’t feel any different. I won’t feel older and I won’t feel wiser. As I reflect back on my days as a fifteen-year-old girl, I realized that there are buckets of memories I want to forget and only a handful of things I want to keep close to me. I think that is what I’m looking forward to. The moments with God, the memories, and the people along the way that will nourish my bashed up soul.