I think the thing people get stuck on when they’re trying to grow up is that we change into new people.
And maybe that’s the case, but growing up is not just about becoming new, but rather becoming a collection of everything that you were before.
And I may be sixteen and careless but
the thirteen year old in me still twirls her hair when she gets tired,
the nine-year old in me still wants to be high up in the trees,
and the five-year old in me still thinks Prince Charming exists.
And I may be sixteen and reckless today but in four years I will be twenty, and I will not forget the rush of breaking curfew and my fathers glare. I may not be the same person I was yesterday but I will not mourn the loss of the girl who makes me who I am today.