Would you ever want to return to your teenage years?
No, no, a thousand times no! Don’t get me wrong. I loved being a teenager. I did a lot of things when I was a teenager. I had friends. I attended an all girls’ school and I loved it because I wasn’t distracted by boys. I could be as smart as I wanted to and not worry about being “too smart.” I took part in community theater in support roles, in costumes and props and even had a small role in one play. I was terribly shy but I played my role and loved it. I went to dances with the the boys’ school and had boyfriends, not serious ones but ones I could have fun with.
But I didn’t get on well with my mother. We argued quite a bit about almost everything. I got my first migraine in high school. She pushed me to go out with boys and worried that I wasn’t a “popular” girl, that I was smart instead. She didn’t like that I was gaga over the Beatles. She thought that was silly. She thought my interest in community theater was also silly. I wanted to take art class in school and didn’t want me to take it and instead insisted that I take another academic course or a typing course. My father understood me better. We got on well. I could talk to him without ending up in a screaming match.
On every Wednesday evening after school, I took the bus downtown with my friends and we went to the library or the art museum and then I took the bus to my paternal grandparents’ house to have dinner and do my homework. My grandmother and I would talk and she understood me and I treasured those evenings. I lived for those evenings. I was very fortunate to have a woman like my grandmother in my life. Those evenings got me through high school. My grandmother really cared about me and what I thought. I felt like a real person when I was with her, something I didn’t feel like when I was at home.
Being a teenager was difficult. You live with feet in two worlds: one in the world of childhood and one in the world of adulthood. It is difficult to live like that for too long. You need people who can guide you through it. I was fortunate that I did. But I wouldn’t want to live through it again. It is too difficult. I’m glad I survived my teenaged years and I credit the kind, loving people who helped me through those years. Thank you to them.