Before I Forget

First of all, is it normal to have the symptoms of a mid-life crisis when you're eighteen?

Anyway...

The day before my eighteenth birthday, I spent all morning and afternoon helping a friend with a short film for a video contest. When I came home my brothers were watching "Hook", a version of Peter Pan. I sat down and watched the end with them, only to find myself overcome with a feeling of intensely bittersweet nostalgia.

I literally started crying in the last scenes when they leave Neverland and return back home. My dad walked in when the mom embraces them, and jokingly said, "No crying!" as I made my best effort to inconspicuously wipe away the moisture from around my eyes.


I'm officially eighteen years old. And {as cheesy as this may sound} I've left Neverland. I know that I'm not going to immediately transform into different girl, but throughout the next few years and probably for the rest of my life, I will change. And I'll grow up.

I once heard someone describe life until high school graduation as traveling along railroad tracks: following the existing railways with each milestone, birthday, and school year. Although I've certainly experienced challenges along the way that have shaped who I am, the path has been pretty clear, simple, and relatively stress-free.

I think of the new responsibilities accompanied with growing up. College. Bills. A job. Eventually a family. The carefree days of childhood dependency are quickly coming to a close. And that's what I mean by leaving Neverland.


But today, as I sit at home all alone for a couple hours, I felt an overwhelming wave of gratitude and peace in an incredibly moving and personal way that is difficult to explain.


I have so many anchors keeping me where I need to be in my life. I thought of how I'm going to lose a lot of friends as we go our separate ways, how people will really come and go for the next few years. But then I think about my mom and dad, and how much I know they care about me. I feel so much comfort in knowing that I can always talk to them and draw upon their strength, help, counsel, and advice. While I'll miss seeing them every day, I'm so glad I to know that they will always, always be there.

I felt peace about my future. You know what? I might get married when I'm nineteen. I might get married when I'm twenty-seven. I might have one child. I might have seven. I might go on to be a nurse practitioner or physician's assistant after I receive my degree in nursing. I might get cancer and die before I'm thirty. My kids might all have disabilities. Something unexpected might happen to my brothers and sisters. I might be a Relief Society president. I might be a substitute nursery leader. I might be called to work in the library. I might never marry. I might have the opportunity to serve a mission. I might have quadruplets. I might live in a third world country. I might live in a big, frightening, busy city. I might live in the countryside.


It doesn't matter! Regardless of where I am, who I am surrounded by, or what happens to me, I can only control me. And that is a beautiful gift. I can be as kind, loving, obedient, faithful, and spiritually-in-tune as I choose to be. And everything will always be ok.


I love moments of inspiration.


(And I do promise to throw in some shorter posts, eventually.)


Enjoy the summer!