What my teenage self thought, I would have outgrown by now (almost 30)
It’s my birthday today and I’m turning 29, which means I’m about to enter my thirty’s year of living on this earth. As a teen – like many others – I thought being THIS OLD meant my life would change drastically, as I’m now officially “adult”, “grown up”, you know. Just less cool, but more sophisticated and having nailed it. The best version of myself, just as in those fancy movies.
My teenage self thought, I would … stop blushing.
I hate blushing and sometimes I don’t even notice I do. Many people think it’s fun (?), necessary (??) or I really don’t know what, to point it out when I blush, which makes me even more uncomfortable. When I was a teenage girl, I blushed almost every time: when someone talked to me, when a boy talked to me (OMG), when I had managed to convince myself in class to finally say something, when I felt shame, when I felt not good enough, when I felt appreciated, when I felt honoured, when I felt seen, when I felt embarrassed. Everything felt like a trigger for a potential blushing.
But adults, you know, those cool, successful, thirty years old women – they didn’t blush. I’ve never seen an adult person blush. I assumed it might end when you reach the age of thirty. And even though I still have one year left to turn thirty, it slowly dawns on me that I will probably keep blushing when I’m there. I don’t blush as often anymore, and most often I don’t even recognise it as much – thanks coping-mechanism? thanks brain? – but my boyfriend also loves to point it out (and I don’t like that).
Truth is, I blush, when he kisses me in public. I guess then my teenage self and my almost-thirty-but-I-don’t-feel-like-it-self crush and find it tremendously embarrassing. Kissing in public. We never assumed we might be doing this. Eeek!
My teenage self thought, I would have … outgrown pimples
Ooohh, this one is so sad. I really, deeply, bought into the myth (ideal?) of having a perfect, soft skin, when I’m about to turn thirty. All those movie stars looked so perfect – yeah, I’m kinda old and yes, I believed it. Never thought about make-up and technology. Thirty meant shiny, beautiful skin, without pimples. However, I still have them. I don’t even know my face without at least one tiny spot. Now I know it’s because I have a sensitive skin. Because I react to my hormones following the monthly cycle. Because of what I eat, and because of so much more. My adult self decided to not be bothered anymore, except for those few lousy days, where you feel a bit off. Then I put a bit of a covering creme – I don’t even know what it is, actually, as my sister gave it to me – on my red spots and feel slightly better.
On all the other days, I don’t mind. I look the way I look, and I won’t stop eating chocolate or drinking milk or eating yogurt or carbohydrates or sugar, just to make sure my skin fits a beauty ideal. I like food too much. The only thing I do is staying sober or only drinking a tiny bit of alcohol because I’ve noticed a direct correlation between drinking alcohol and having lots of skin issues. But that’s not the only reason. I also just don’t like it.
My teenage self thought, I would have … stopped hating alcohol.
Nope. I figured out what I like, and that’s mostly cocktails where you don’t taste the alcohol, but as cocktails are effortful in their making, I almost never have one. The one, bad bad evening in the teenage years was enough to make me hate the smell of alcohol and, by now, I made the conclusion that water is always a better solution. I know, my teenage self thought we would be sophisticated and drink Gin (wäh), mixed Longdrinks (wäh), wine (sometimes, but it takes a whole evening to sip one glass) or champagne (wäh), but that didn’t happen. No sophistication through alcohol.
My teenage self thought, I would have … outgrown having no idea about my life’s path.
Everyone seemed so old and settled back then, when they’ve reached the age of thirty. Like, there was living together, getting married, buying a house, having children. Was I conservative! However, my path was winding, and it still is. I’m WAY less conservative and learned to appreciate my weird, winding paths. They always surprise me with new extra bonuses, even though it’s incredibly hard at times. I’m not scared anymore of this flexible path I’m following, don’t feel the need anymore, to control it through excessive plan-making (which has NEVER worked out by the way).
Sometimes, I wish it would be easier and I would be and feel more conservative and “normal”. But I’ve also learned that all the “normal” we imagine, is in the end only a constructed system to make sense of the world and holding us in our places. I would be very unhappy if I tried to fit into this “normal”. I’m neurodivergent, I’m highly sensitive, I’m an introvert. That’s my normal, but not the system’s “normal”. It also helped me by the way, to find these terms for what made me feel unfitting for so long.
My teenage self thought, I would … stop disliking children.
Gosh, this was a tough one. Admitting to myself that I don’t like children and that I’ve probably never done so. That it’s not about being shy around children, as they are fellow humans, but that I simply like the company of adults / people around my age much more and that they are just not my thing. It took so long to admit it to myself and to tell it my friends, who were about to get children. It unravelled a whole new world when I found out it’s a possibility to be childfree. To not have children, just because I don’t want to. To allow myself to feel excited about this and to speak it out loud.
I don’t want to have children. I don’t like the company of children. I enjoy the company of my friends without their children. I don’t want to take care of children. This is not for me. I’m so grateful for these words.
My teenage self thought, I would have … outgrown being shy.
I still remember being hit by the thought that I only considered myself to be shy, because others have labelled my behaviour as that of a shy person. Others said: “Mareike is shy”. So, I believed I’m shy. That’s how I am. And a shy person doesn’t talk much, so I didn’t talk much. A shy person is silent when around strangers, so I’ve been silent around strangers. A shy person doesn’t say clever things, therefore also isn’t clever, and so I never said clever things. A shy person blushes in situation XYZ, so I blushed. But one day I was given a new word – introvert. And that changed so much. I’m not shy. I’m pretty open and funny (I guess?). It just takes a while of observing people and analysing whether or not I enjoy their company. I’m silent because I prefer to look first, instead of talk. I see dynamics and moods others don’t see. And I don’t open up to any random person coming my way.
A while ago, my boyfriend came to me and said, his brother had told him that he, after we’ve been together for three years back then, realised that I’m much more open with him, than I used to be. So, maybe I need three years to warm up with a person I don’t see daily. Which is probably also why I have so few friends because three years is a lot of time and effort.
Anyway, now that I know that I’m an introvert and that introverts just have different needs than extroverts, I’m able to embrace it. Having time alone, LOTS of time alone; no loud spaces; not as many other humans within a week; I can talk, when I want to, but I don’t need to. Observing is sometimes even more fun and luckily you only get grades for talking in school, not in real life. Yes, I might have outgrown the word “shy”, but only because I learned that I’ve always been an introvert.
My teenage self thought, I would … wear fashionable clothes.
As a teenage girl I struggled a lot with fashion. I used to wear what I liked, no matter what others might think, but my clothes never were pretty or cool. I just liked them, though no one else was wearing what I did. My clothes also weren’t very fancy or extraordinary, it was mostly jeans and a t-shirt or something like that. But they were never very up-to-date.
Then there was a time, when I felt the need to fit in and started to wear more up-to-date clothes – skinny jeans and narrow tops, as being slim was what you should look like. Unless that I never felt slim enough, fit enough or comfortable in these clothes. I thought that when growing older and reaching thirty, I would have found my style, which would be up-to-date and modern and just nice and essentially what you should wear, when turning thirty (maybe a blazer and blouse or a perfectly fitting cocktail dress).
Truth is, I’m still wearing things from 10 years ago. I like them and my style is definitely not modern or up-to-date. I missed that point by far. I just wear what I feel most comfortable in, trying to find clothes I can imagine myself in. Slowly, this also means trying clothes I’ve always assumed I disliked, but I think me disliking them was just some weird bias or because someone back then said they are ugly. Nowadays, I’m close to giving a shit what others might think of my clothes and simply wear what I like and feel good in. Very relieving and I think my teenage self would be over the moon for this confidence.
My teenage self thought, I would have … outgrown ugly, childish PJs.
Turn thirty and you suddenly only wear fancy nightwear in a teenage girl’s mind. Truth: I love funny PJs, buy oversized male t-shirts and would freeze in a negligee or any other fancy nightwear. What did I think?? I even wear wool socks in winter …
My teenage self thought, I would have … stopped hating my monthly period.
No, I didn’t. It’s still so painful, it’s still nasty, it’s still stressful and I’m far away from “embracing my female power” or however you might want to call it. I still try to plan around these days, I still hate miss-planning and going on a holiday with a period being due exactly then. Or having to work on the day I have cramps. I tried 4 years of zero painkillers, but then decided that it’s not worth it. I still wish, each time, it will simply go away, suddenly.
I’m very grateful for having grown into a wiser and gentler human than I was as a teen. Especially when I think about myself and all my habits. Just accepting yourself as you are (on most days) gives you so much peacefulness and freedom and opens you up so much more to honest reflection, possible change and the ability to learn.
My teenage self thought, I wouldn’t be … celebrating Christmas and baking cookies with my family.
While sitting, yet again, in my mother’s kitchen one Sunday morning, rolling dough and pressing cookie cutters into it (the mushroom is my favourite and I don’t know why), I thought about this text. I thought that “having a baking date with your mother and sister for Christmas” and also spending Christmas with my family, like I’ve done so many times, isn’t what I thought I would still be doing and enjoying.
My teenage self thought there are no cookies around Christmas when you’re THIS old (like what???) because they are somehow spared to those with kids. That you only bake cookies because you have small children, and they enjoy baking them. And I absolutely didn’t envision myself sitting in my mother’s kitchen, baking with her and my sister, listening to Christmas music, being messy and just enjoying it.
However, my teenage self also didn’t think I would still celebrate Christmas with my parents. It imaged that when your roughly thirty-ish, you’ll be celebrating alone at home with your partner – Sex and the City vibes ON – and maybe visiting them the day after or so. But somehow, I find it very odd to celebrate Christmas Eve with my partners parents (like he does) or having him with my family. There is so much family tradition weaved into these days that I find it difficult to change it. Never seen that coming.
Turns out I’m less adult than my teenage self imagined me to be by now. Or being adult looks so different in reality than it does in a teen’s eyes.
What did your teenage self thought, you would have outgrown by now?
About me: I’m Mareike, the writer of this newsletter hills to heart. I’m also the writer of my free Studio Journal newsletter, my Studio Blog and an artist, trying to capture the world around me with oils, watercolour or whatelse comes my way. Recently, I launched my art online shop, which you’re welcome to explore.
This is such a wonderful idea to reflect back on! I’m finding so much empathy for my teenaged self these days. She tried so hard and was so hard on herself. But it’s pretty hilarious to think about how wrong I was about what being an adult would be like too. 😂
I’m also an introvert, neurodivergent, and highly sensitive! I’m so glad you commented in Find Your Tribe so I could find your writing. 😊
I love this Marieke, thank you for sharing. So many things that we think when we’re young turn out to be completely untrue. “all the “normal” we imagine, is in the end only a constructed system to make sense of the world and holding us in our places” love this bit particularly 💛 great read.