Write a post inspired by your sixteenth birthday.
Anyone willing to admit that their guilty pleasure was watching My Super Sweet Sixteen? Well, mine wasn’t. I was more into Finding Bigfoot but I will admit that I have seen a fair few episodes of that show and seen just how ridiculous money makes people. Those girls are spoiled rotten brats who will never amount to anything of their own volition. They will only survive this cruel world on their mommy and daddy’s enormous paychecks and these snotty trust fund babies will cash out when they come of age to more money than some of us can even dream about.
That’s what I thought about when I was 15 going on 16. I witnessed our society portraying turning 16 as this huge right of passage and I didn’t understand why. What was so great about turning 16? It doesn’t make you any wiser or any more accomplished. In fact, I just thought it made you more of an idiot for buying into the whole thing. You’re just another year older. Who really cares? I also didn’t understand why so many girls found that turning 16 meant that they would be coming into their womanhood. Hey man, I’m pretty sure coming into my womanhood meant when the lining of my uterine wall started shedding and I became a human waterfall once a month. (Too graphic? My apologies). I didn’t believe that turning 16 would be all that great or all that special. Many of my friends, however, did not share my feelings. Most of them had parties and many of them had a jolly good time turning 16. I, on the other hand, refused to even take part in it.
Long story short: I had a party for my 15th birthday and one for my 17th birthday. I refused to even acknowledge the fact that I turned 16 with a celebration. Sure, my parents took me out to dinner like they do every year but I refused to throw a party for myself like I had done years before. Do I regret not wanting to be in love with 16? No. Do I regret thinking that being 16 was overrated? No. I honestly still don’t really care about 16.
But now that I think about it, I think I’m getting my comeuppance for ignoring this particular birthday. People, on many occasions, at first glance, mistake this freshly crowned 23 year old for a bright eyed and bushy tailed 16 year old.
The world is a wonder to behold.
Pingbacks!
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I’m with you. I also passed for 16 for about 15 years after. Weird. As for the womanhood thing? I was 9 (TMI?) … 🙂
Wow! 9? I got mine when I was 14. I can’t imagine getting it at 9. Lol.
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