All Grown Up

Do you ever feel really proud of yourself for being able to skillfully do something simple and mundane, like efficiently tying your shoelaces or getting in and out of the stall at record speed when there's a long line for the bathroom? Lately I've found myself with excitement welling up in my chest after having had a successfully coherent conversation with someone I don't know that well. If I am able to make them laugh, find some kind of connection, and not stutter, I smile to myself after they walk away, thinking, "Atta girl. You show 'em who's an adult."

I think I feel this way because I've known myself my whole life, and sometimes (often) I forget that I am no longer a five-year-old girl in a princess dress, or an awkward fourteen-year-old with braces and the worst hair in the history of the world. Most days still tend to be bad hair days, but I consistently find myself able to do things like screw the cap back on a bottle of juice by just setting it on top and spinning it, or paying for my items in a check out line, and to me, that's a big deal. The little girl inside of me is still amazed when I can think of something that relates to a story someone else just told, and the adolescent in me is surprised that on those bad hair days I can just throw my hair up into a messy bun and end up looking halfway decent. No one knows me better than me, and while that can get lonely sometimes, it also gives me a sense of comfort. I have a friend in myself; a little ten-year-old Rachel to high five when I pull off things I wasn't able to do fifteen years ago. I like that I get enjoyment out of those little things, because it means that while I haven't forgotten who I used to be, I can still function as an adult human being. As far as you can tell, I'm all grown up.


Something I'm diggin' right now: movie montages that inspire action. 

Happy birthday, Harry Potter!