What I Could Have Been

Sometimes, I look back and remember what it was like to be a child. First crushes, first time holding hands because I thought I was old enough to be in a relationship, first best friend, first favorite and least favorite teacher. This was the time to figure what subjects I enjoyed the most, and I started showing my parents how to write my name because I wasn’t old enough to understand that they already knew how to spell my name. It took me until fourth grade to learn my middle name. I was smart, but I could never figure out the small  things. That hasn’t changed.

I really miss those days. They were so simple. Homework took fifteen minutes, the worst a guy could do to you was wipe his snot on your favorite jacket. College was just a word, not yet your future, and all you wanted to do was grow up. I’ve been in a nostalgic rut. I’m always thinking about what could have been if my childhood would have played out differently. If I chose different friends. If I didn’t take things so seriously. If I didn’t carry my heart on my sleeve. I wonder who I would be if I didn’t throw that third place pageant trophy out the window, or If I got back on that horse after it threw me off. It makes me sad, not knowing. What if my firsts weren’t my firsts. What if I had loved different people. What if that strawberry blonde friend of mine didn’t leave.

The important thing is though, and I am coming to realize this, I can take these “what ifs” and use them as inspiration, but I cannot mourn something that never happened. it is important to appreciate, amongst the questions, the facts. The childhood that I had was beautiful, and it made me who I am. I am beautiful, strong, intelligent, and talented. Yeah, I could possibly be a cowgirl or a pageant queen. There are an infinite amount of maybes out there, but I deeply love who I am, and I’m pretty proud that all my choices made me a writer.