Growing Up is Very Hard

I’m 20. I’ve been telling that thing over and over again here in my blog. And here I am, writing it all over again. Why? Just read on and you’ll be enlightened.

One of the things people (women usually) wanted to be is to look like a teenager—slim, thin, and younger looking. Who wouldn’t? What are all those cosmetic products and surgeries—such as buttocks—are there for if the human race is not striving to look young, right?

I’ve been told by my fourth grade teacher that I will have no problems with my face—that means no pimples and if there is, it will be minimal. I was flattered. And for years, I have no severe pimple problem. I’m just lucky I guess.

So college came. Part of immaturity was still etched in me. I did some foolish things then...like playing jackstone while at the school’s food court; running when I hated someone; chasing to pinch someone; laughing at the top of my lungs and of course, crying whenever I feel like it. That was really embarrassing now that I get to spill it to you.:P

Last year, we had some recollection on those things. It was not that pleasant since they teased me nonstop. But I was cool about it. Then I got bored with all the teasing and eventually got irritated. So one day, I asked one of my classmates if I really look and act like a kid. And she said yes. I felt so down and I promised that from that day forward, they will see a new me.

From then on, I act like a totally mature person. Sure, I look like kid with my height but it is fine. And after that, they started calling me “mature”. The additional glasses were a bonus to me. :D

I really thought that the euphoria of being called a mature person would last long but I was wrong. Every now and then, I would get a comment on how I look like a high school kid. Even some strangers would call me “inday” (an equivalent word for little girl). Some of you might even be flattered if they are branded as such but not me. I hated every single second hearing it.

When our on-the-job training came, everyone was excited. Looking mature and dressing with office clothes were all that we thought off. The first day was real fun for me. The jeepney drivers were calling me a “Miss” (miraculously) with my slacks and polo like top. I was not returning their questions if I will ride their jeepney; I was looking strict as a matter of fact. Little did they know that I was trying so hard to hide my smile with their choice of word. :D

Mr. Rodel, one of the workers in the office where I used have my OJT, one day commented to me how I look akin to a kid. I didn’t really liked it, in fact I was livid about it…kidding! :P But it was not a pleasant remark on my part, no, not really.

These and some other remarks made me think, do I really look like a kid? :(