When I was 16 I thought I knew it all. I convinced myself I was mature beyond my years. I thought I had my entire life figured out, where I would live, what I would do, the whole 9 yards. It should be called naive 16.
Last night we were discussing our teenager selves. Our biggest stress in life was what we were going to wear to a party, an exam, or maybe whether or not our crush liked us too. We wanted nothing but to be cool and accepted. All that mattered were our social lives. We slept in every weekend, didn’t study enough, and were appalled when asked to help around the house.
I wasn’t the teenager from hell, but I was sassy, moody, and my parents telling me I needed an “attitude adjustment” sounded like a broken record. I was very confident and ambitious. I was figuring out who I was, what I wanted to do with my life, and how to get there. Don’t get me wrong, I was a happy teenager, just by no means perfect.
At the time 16 was sweet, I was blissfully unaware of what lied ahead, had no real stress, and no idea where life would take me. I’m so grateful that the path I chose led me to where I am today.