Shecoria | Essays on Becoming

I am unfortunately a bit of a couch potato. However, I have been obsessed with long walks lately. Listening to my music and finding somewhere scenic may even be better than the club. And I LOVE the club. Obviously, I won’t stop dropping it like it’s hot anytime soon, but I think all the extra sunshine has been reminding me of what it felt like to be a teenager.

Maybe it’s because the quiet time has been helping me process my emotions more, or maybe it’s just that that was the last time I was touching grass consistently. Either way, there are a few teenage philosophies I’ve found myself revisiting lately. I spent a lot of my early twenties trying to grow out of certain versions of myself. Now I’m realizing she actually had a few things right.

1. Be selfish

We all know the eldest daughter stereotype. As a teenager, I felt like the world was on my shoulders. It seemed like nobody would ever be okay if I wasn’t trying my absolute best to make sure they were. I paid attention to everyone’s moods. I worried about whether people were disappointed in me. I felt responsible for fixing things that I probably had no business trying to fix.

For the first time in my life, I feel somewhat free from carrying everyone else’s emotions. It hasn’t been easy, and I still feel a lot of guilt. It’s hard wondering if I’m letting people down. It’s even harder to let things happen however they may and resist the urge to intervene.

I’ve always hated the idea that you don’t owe anyone anything. Honestly, I do owe the people in my life my love and my kindness. I owe them effort. I owe them thought. I owe them apologies when I hurt them and consideration when my choices affect them.

But I don’t owe them my peace.

I think I’m finally figuring out where that line is. Sometimes being selfish is choosing not to solve a problem that isn’t yours. Sometimes it’s disappointing someone. Sometimes it’s letting another person have feelings about your decision without immediately changing it. I can care deeply about people without making sure they are okay with everything I do.

2. Keep pushing yourself

Being comfortable isn’t the same as being happy.

A lot of things in my life have made me “happy enough.” And honestly, happy enough can be pretty convincing. Nothing is terribly wrong. You’re comfortable. You know what to expect. It becomes very easy to look around and think, Well, I guess this is fine.

But I don’t want to settle at 25. That’s crazy.

I want to keep asking things of myself. I want to get better at the things I care about. I want to try things I might embarrass myself doing. I want to keep changing my mind when I learn something new. I want my life to keep getting bigger because I keep becoming someone capable of holding more of it.

That doesn’t mean I need to be dissatisfied with everything I have. I’m actually more grateful for my life now than I’ve ever been. My today is better than my yesterday. But part of the reason it’s better is because I got better too. I learned things. I changed things. I stopped making some of the same mistakes.

I think there’s a difference between contentment and complacency. I want the first one. The second one scares me.

3. Remember what freedom is actually for

For a long time, I thought freedom meant being able to leave.

You can quit the job. Move to another city. End the relationship. Find new friends. Change your mind. Start completely over. There is something comforting about knowing that nothing technically has to be permanent.

And sometimes leaving really is the best thing you can do for yourself.

But I don’t think constantly starting over makes me free anymore.

Freedom is having the ability to pursue the things I actually want. And if I’m lucky enough to have that ability, I think I owe it to myself to really pursue them. To communicate. Try harder. Be patient. Change my perspective. Give something enough time to become what I hoped it could be.

There will always be another option. I think I’m less interested in proving that I can leave and more interested in seeing what happens when I choose to stay.

Maybe freedom isn’t about keeping every door open. Maybe it’s knowing you can walk through any of them and still deciding which room you want to be in.

4. Never forget to play

I think adults need to go outside and play more.

Not exercise. Not get 10,000 steps. Not go to a networking event. Not join a recreational league because you’re trying to “build community.” I mean literally go outside and see what happens.

Some of my favorite memories have absolutely no larger significance. I was somewhere. Something was happening. I met somebody. We laughed. Maybe I never saw them again.

I’ve started appreciating that more. Every person I enjoy does not need to become my friend. Every fun night doesn’t need to become a tradition. A stranger can be a meaningful part of my day without becoming a meaningful part of my life.

There is so much freedom in letting things be temporary.

As a kid, you could go outside with absolutely no plan and somehow come back six hours later with a story. Somewhere along the way, I started feeling like my time needed more structure than that. Now I want some of that aimlessness back.

Sometimes I want to walk until I find something interesting. Talk to somebody I don’t know. Dance with someone whose name I’ll forget. Try something because it sounds fun. Waste an afternoon.

Not everything has to lead somewhere. Sometimes having fun is enough.

5. Care too much about things

Teenagers care about things an embarrassing amount.

A song can change your entire personality for three weeks. You watch the same movie until you know every line. You develop an obsession and suddenly everyone around you is receiving unsolicited updates about it. Your favorite things are not casual interests. They are extremely serious business.

I miss that.

There’s something about adulthood that makes people want to seem detached. We’re supposed to be chill. Nothing is that deep. We don’t want to seem too excited or too invested or, God forbid, corny.

I actually love being corny.

I want to care too much about my birthday. I want to make the playlist. I want to plan the theme. I want to spend an unreasonable amount of time thinking about an outfit. I want to become obsessed with a hobby I might abandon six months from now. I want to hear a song and play it until everyone around me hates it.

Not everything I love needs to become productive. I don’t have to monetize it, master it, or figure out how it fits into the person I’m becoming.

Some things can matter simply because they matter to me.

I think I spent a lot of my early twenties believing growing up meant becoming more measured. More responsible. Less impulsive. Less emotional. And sure, some of that was probably necessary.

But I don’t want adulthood to make my world smaller.

I want to love people without carrying them. I want to appreciate my life without getting complacent in it. I want enough freedom to choose things and enough discipline to see those choices through. I want to play with people I may never see again. I want to care way too much about things that don’t matter at all.

Maybe I don’t need to become more like my teenage self.

I just needed to remember that she knew a few things I forgot.