When Wendy Grew Up

A few years ago I started hating birthdays. I started contemplating what it meant to grow up and, not coming to any concrete conclusions, decided whatever it meant I didn't like it. So I read Peter Pan and fantasized about running away to Neverland and forgot all about what it actually meant to grow up.

In four days I turn eighteen. I've been trying real hard not to think about it and to hide behind the old "Eighteen is a number, it does not make me an adult." thing, but it just ain't working. There are many things that worry me about turning eighteen, typical things. Seventeen is a really good wall to hide behind, tell a creeper you're underage and they tend to back off (not that I can't lie, it's just easier when it's honest). It's a safety blanket from the world of responsibility.

I hate responsibility. And growing up means responsibility. But I've always been incredibly self-sufficient and I have no problem with doing what I need to do to survive on my own. Working legit jobs, paying reallivegrownuptype bills, feeding myself, those things scare me quite a bit, but they aren't what really bothers me.

So what it means to grow up:

1) More responsibility. That sucks but I can easily accept it.

2) And this is where I get sad. I won't be able to get into Neverland or Narnia, and, even though it's silly, that thought really makes me sad. And I'm not even sure if I could get in today, I might be too grown already.

So what marks being grown enough not to get into Narnia? When do you stop being able to fly?

Let's consult the expert:
"Why can't you fly now, mother?"
"Because I'm grown up, dearest. When people grow up they forget the way."
"Why do they forget the way?"
"Because they are no longer gay and innocent and heartless. It is only the gay and innocent and heartless that can fly."

So am I gay, innocent, and heartless? I try to be as gay and heartless as possible, but sometimes... I'm not. I get sad a lot, I always have, and sometimes the reality of the world bogs me down. And innocent? I've pretty much been there done that when it comes to falling in love and getting my heart broken, I've seen and dealt with grief, and physically I'm pretty darn growed. I don't know that I am innocent and gay and heartless, but Wendy, does that really mean that I can't fly? Or is the only reason you couldn't you didn't believe you could?

She didn't even try.

And I legitimately do believe in fairies and a world of make-believe come true, and I understand that there are things that are beautiful about being an adult that children don't really experience. But it breaks my heart to think that I can't get into Narnia or Neverland, and I refuse to accept that just because I've experienced adult things that children never will, I will never go back there. Maybe if I believe I can get there even though I'm older and wiser now... maybe Peter can still fly in through my window and carry me away.

This boy I used to love, my bestest friend in the whole wide world who I haven't talked to in ages and who I'm probably growing apart from finally, said something in his blog when he was going through this same thing. He said "Growing up isn't realizing magic isn't real, it's believing in it anyways." And that was okay for me then because I didn't have to grow up because he was old and I wasn't.

But now I'm thinking about it. And sorry, kid, that ain't it.
I believe in magic. Neverland will always float around in my brain with fairies and mermaids and pirate ships. I will never stop believing in that magic and I think that there are a lot of adults that believe too. Or at the very least I hope that there are. And if that's what it means to grow up then I think there are a lot of adults that aren't "grown-ups" and if that's true then you can grow without growing up.

I don't ever want to stop growing, because I believe that this world is a beautiful place with so much to offer, and every second I spend doing something new I grow a little.

But I still dream about floating on oceans with mermaids and flying around with fairies. And I believe it's more than a dream.

I can see people laughing as they read this.

But that's okay.

That's me.

I'm a lost girl, and I will never grow up.