I couldn't figure it out, really. What kept me from you for so many years. Not that I was ever kept far away, but there was always something tugging at me; telling me that something wasn't right. I thought maybe it was just a gut feeling of something being wrong and I thought that was enough for me. I didn't dig any deeper because if it's wonky, it's wonky, right?
I was so wrong, though. Of my entire list of reasons on why we couldn't be together (that i could not put my finger on), I had never considered my own maturity. I've been called "mature for my age" all my life, so my maturity had never been the subject of my own scrutiny. I don't think I was ever mature for my age. I grew up quickly, and then I fully plateaued.
It's not that I'm not good enough for you as I so vehemently believed for so long, it's that I was just a kid. It's not that I couldn't be your wife, it's that I couldn't be anyone's. Because I was not a woman, I was a girl and girls can't be wives and then mothers. I needed time. Time I didn't know I needed.
I grew up fast, and then I stopped. I don't know when I stopped, maybe around 17. You always told me I reminded you of a little girl. I thought it was because you spoke to my inner child, thus being my best friend. Again, I was wrong.
I am a little girl. I always have been, and no one has ever challenged me to be anything else because the world likes little girls. The world likes little girls more than it likes strong, independent women. The world likes little girls more than it likes independent women. Hell, the world likes little girls more than it likes women.
And what makes a little girl out of me? My naivety, my innocence, my optimism, and my proclivity for singling out the shred of good in others while ignoring all the bad. I giggle, I play, and I smile. Because that's what the world wants from someone like me. They don't want an opinionated, fierce, grown-up woman. The world has never wanted that. The world wants little girls. And I got taken advantage of plenty of times, but I had surmised it was a fact of life as opposed to being the side effect and fallout of playing the little ballerina all the time.
Of course, I am fierce and opinionated and strong, but only in the moments I feel alone. Like on this blog that virtually nobody knows about.
I'm not talking about the difference between a little girl and a woman though, not really. I'm talking about the difference between being a child and being a grown-up. I just happen to be a little girl or a woman. You loved me when we were kids together but then you grew up. I remember when you did. It was right after college graduation when you joined the workforce.
It was a bit of a shock to you, and it affected you so deeply that I think I subconsciously swore to myself I would never go down that rabbit hole of existential crisis. The rabbit hole of growing up.
I often tell you that you are perfect and you shake your head. I don't say that because I don't know you or because I am ignorant to the human condition. I say that because despite all your wonky bits, the rest shines brighter always. And to me, you are perfect. I've always admired you and the things I most admire about you come with maturity. The things I most admire about you; I don't currently have. The practicality, the budget skills, the no-nonsense problem solving. I'm full of nonsense.
And it worked for a time. You were my anchor and I was your kite. I reminded you to play when work became too big in your life. Bless you for never telling me to grow up. I deserved to hear it, and I know that. But you never said it.
Well, I grew up a little bit since I left. It was terrible, and it made me want to scream. It's not that finances never stressed me out; I'm finding they do. I just had never been able to wrap my brain around the idea of money in general. I was just a little kid, after all. I get it now. I never used to worry about things the way I worry about them now. I never used to consider things the way I consider them now. I plan more than I used to. I stay inside my routines more easily than I used to. These are considered to be good, mature, grown-up things, I guess.
You are my best friend. You are the best friend to the little girl inside of me, and I hope that you feel the same about me. But I want more. I want to be an adult with you. I still want to play, and giggle, and have fun in the spaces we find alone together, but I want to be a grown-up with you too.
I couldn't be a wife when I was just a little girl, but I'm ready now. I'm ready to be something the world might not want from me. I'm hanging up the forced smiles, and half-hearted giggles.
I know that's what the world wants from me, but I don't want the world anymore. I just want you.