The video of me has been sitting in my parents’ camera roll for 13 years. It’s 3-year-old me, rolling around on the living room floor, singing “What a Wonderful World” by Louis Armstrong. My voice is high-pitched; I’m still in my monkey-print pajamas, completely carefree, unaware that soon I’d be starting kindergarten, beginning a new chapter in life.
The other video of me has been in my camera roll for 7 months. It’s 15-year-old me, sobbing at Olivia Rodrigo’s Guts World Tour in Detroit during the song “Teenage Dream.” Before she sings, videos of little Olivia flash on the big screen for everyone to see. They remind me of the video of myself singing in the living room, when I wasn’t worried about anything in the world.
It took me a while to realize I’m growing up. So far, my teenage years have been filled with moments I’ll never forget, meeting some of the best people in my life, conquering my fear of roller coasters and still trying to get over my fear of spiders (which I’m not sure I ever will). I have four more years left as a teenager, and making the most of each day feels natural to me. When I was little, I never thought about what growing up would mean.
I never imagined that one day, when my dad lifted me up over his head in the living room while Tchaikovsky’s “Snow Pas De Deux” from The Nutcracker played, there would be a last time he did that, because I grew up and got “too big” to play with my parents anymore. It’s strange, looking back, how the moments that seemed so normal become the ones you miss the most. Like the sound of my dad’s laugh echoing through the house when he spun me around or the way my mom would sit with me at the kitchen table, patiently helping me draw in the lines. At the time, I thought those moments would last forever, or at least, I never imagined they wouldn’t.
But as I grew up, life sped up with me. My bike with pink training wheels was the way I would get around; the worst pain I felt was when I skinned my knee, and goodbyes only meant “I’ll see you tomorrow.” All of the moments I thought would last forever as a kid are now just distant memories. I don’t remember when I started worrying about things like my future, or if I’m doing enough, or who I’m supposed to be. I know now I’m a different person than I was. Even though I’m not so little anymore, and I know I’ll never be that little girl twirling around in her pajamas again, that little girl is still inside me. I’m carrying her with me because she is still a part of me. And that’s the most wonderful thing about it all.
