"Creativity is an act of defiance," -Twyla Tharp
When I was a kid, I never thought about what I would be like when I was 18.
I'd always imagine becoming a teenager at 13, my sweet 16, and then that elusive period of being an adult, of when I was past college age and all on my own.
But never 18.
Of course, being 18 doesn't feel any different. I never feel any older until a crisis sets in mid-December or January, and I have to start telling people my new age.
Regardless, I never thought I'd be here. I never thought I'd have some of the best friends in the world still by my side.
I never thought I'd be a published author. I never thought I'd be going to the college of my dreams. I never thought there'd be almost one thousand of you on my Instagram.
I never thought my life would be this way because I never thought about this strange, in-between stage. The stage where slowly, the ideals and characteristics of being young are stripped away. The stage when bricks upon bricks of responsibility are piled upon your back, and you finally realize how heavy it all is.
But what's really gotten to me is how very little time I have left in the Breadbasket of America. It hit me at 2am on the night of my 18th birthday. It hit me on the last night of the musical. It hit me when Mom and I were making food in preparation for Thanksgiving. It hits me every time I drive past my old job, past my high school, past the woods that Andrew and I have turned into Narnia.
Yet, I dream of my life in college. I dream of the freedom, the fertile, creative ground I'll be seeded into. I dream of my future, and the great and terrible adventure that stares me down.
So, to everyone: I already miss you. But 18 presents insurmountable challenges that I have no choice but to face.
All glory be to Christ, to whom I owe everything.
~The WordShaker
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