“What is it like?” My younger self asked with awe in her eyes.
“What is it like?” I asked my younger self with desperation and longing in my eyes.

Her true and open self has been lost in anxiety, stress, and the fear of missing out in life. She grew up wishing to be older, but now she wishes to be younger.

The real her has slowly drifted away like the eraser at the end of a pencil. It slowly disintegrates until it vanishes completely, gone away as if it never existed. Knowing it was there, you still see the silver hole at the top of the pencil where it used to sit. Every glance is a reminder that her genuine self once resided in that open metal casket.

Her time only consists of waking up for school and devoting all of her time to do well. She can’t afford to slack off and laugh with her friends during class or else she might miss her only opportunity to succeed. She knows what happened when she didn’t pay attention in elementary school and she’s afraid it has already damaged her.

She still stares at her younger self who is smaller on her height. She’s grown much taller now but still feels behind. She’s tried so many hobbies trying to find a place in her small world, a place where she belongs. She never found it. Or maybe she did. But she gave it up.

Now that she’s grown she has to find a place in the big world. And she’s terrified she may never discover it. It feels she’s always been average at best for everything, how is she supposed to know what she will succeed at now?

She’s overwhelmed by her future but underwhelmed by her life.