Transition from 16 to 17
It’s been about a month since I’ve turned 17. It feels like I’m waving goodbye to my childhood whilst I leave them behind knowing there’s no way back. It’s scary. 17 is like the bridge between childhood and adulthood. While 16 was a bittersweet age, a year where I lived my whole life in it, a year filled with most emotions and experiences, I’m afraid of gradually forgetting them and feeling miserable again. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more of a loser than I’m feeling after turning 17. There are so many people out there who are same age as me but they are just better, living life to the fullest, already so ahead and there’s me, wasting my greatest years doing nothing special.
16 was the peak embodiment of being an actual teenager; old enough to differ from a kid but not so old to be considered an adult. As they call it “sweet sixteen”, it really was sweet and kind enough to make me feel alive. I don’t think I’ve ever lived more than I’ve lived in 16 and it hurts a bit in knowing that I will never feel the same. I’m trying to reminisce every memory, every first experiences and every person I met while I was 16. Smoking for the first time, bunking the classes, having the closest friends, sneaking out, falling in and out of love, getting a citizenship, dancing and kissing and laughing and crying. I’m grateful for all of it. I do not regret anything because I know it couldn’t get any better than that.
Now that I’m 17, I’m neither a kid nor an adult. I’m almost grown and almost not. I think it’s the age where you have to accept that childhood is over. You can no longer call yourself a kid and keep messing around. Your shoulders carry the weight of responsibilities while your heart wishes to turn back time. At least that’s what I wish I could do right now. I just wish I could fully accept the fact that I’m not going to be a silly clueless teenager forever.