rebecca_in_blue (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rebecca_in_blue) wrote2010-04-11 11:09 pm
rebecca_in_blue) wrote2010-04-11 11:09 pm
Entry tags:
Writer's Block: Back to the future
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This is a really interesting Writer's Block. Would twelve-year-old Rebecca be disappointed or pleased with modern-day Rebecca? I really don't know. Both, I guess. I honestly don't remember what I wanted to do for a living or where I wanted to live when I was twelve -- which surprises me, because I usually have an excellent memory -- but I doubt the dream was to work a part-time retail job and live in the same neighborhood in 2010 as in 1996. So maybe in that respect, my twelve-year-old self would be disappointed. But I like to think that there are other things for her to be happy about.
First and foremost is that I am happy. (For the most part, anyway.) Looking back now, I don't think twelve-year-old Rebecca was very happy at all. Maybe it was because middle school was hell on earth. But I think it was because she wasn't comfortable with herself yet. That sounds so cheesey, but I can't express it any better. All in all, the journey from twelve to now hasn't been so bad; best of all, it's been short, which means the majority of the journey is still to come. My asthma is infinitely better now than it was then. My sister is still making me laugh. What still hurts the most is Dad and Aunt Carolyn. What doesn't hurt at all anymore is not getting into the LA School, which I thought was the end of my world.
And the craziest thing of all? That hyper, energetic little black puppy that my family got when I was twelve is the same slow, lethargic gray old dog who lives with me today.
This is a really interesting Writer's Block. Would twelve-year-old Rebecca be disappointed or pleased with modern-day Rebecca? I really don't know. Both, I guess. I honestly don't remember what I wanted to do for a living or where I wanted to live when I was twelve -- which surprises me, because I usually have an excellent memory -- but I doubt the dream was to work a part-time retail job and live in the same neighborhood in 2010 as in 1996. So maybe in that respect, my twelve-year-old self would be disappointed. But I like to think that there are other things for her to be happy about.
First and foremost is that I am happy. (For the most part, anyway.) Looking back now, I don't think twelve-year-old Rebecca was very happy at all. Maybe it was because middle school was hell on earth. But I think it was because she wasn't comfortable with herself yet. That sounds so cheesey, but I can't express it any better. All in all, the journey from twelve to now hasn't been so bad; best of all, it's been short, which means the majority of the journey is still to come. My asthma is infinitely better now than it was then. My sister is still making me laugh. What still hurts the most is Dad and Aunt Carolyn. What doesn't hurt at all anymore is not getting into the LA School, which I thought was the end of my world.
And the craziest thing of all? That hyper, energetic little black puppy that my family got when I was twelve is the same slow, lethargic gray old dog who lives with me today.