things i’ve said in my head but never out loud

aka how i started noticing things and accidentally grew up

i don’t know when exactly it happened, but i think i’ve become... a person.

*drumroll*

a real person. not the teenage blur of vibes and opinions. not the main character in a Pinterest board but someone who notices her body craving rest. someone who finally understands why her mom didn’t like noise after 7 pm. someone who feels weirdly proud after a well-timed grocery run.

i don’t know, it’s just — it’s starting to feel real.
life. me. all of it.

i catch myself doing things i never thought i would.
like getting genuinely excited about new charger
or hearing a song from 2016 and thinking, wow, that version of me didn’t know anything, not in a cringey way. just in a… god, look how far i’ve come kind of way.

i’ve become more attentive lately. to everything.
to how the light moves in my room during the day.
to how people speak when they’re unsure.
to the way my chest feels after i’ve had too much coffee and not enough water.
to how a text left on read isn’t always rejection but sometimes it’s just someone trying to keep their own head above water.

i don’t think i’m sad. i think i’m just noticing more.
and when you start noticing, everything starts to shift.
you realize how much of life is held in tiny, stupid moments.
like heating leftovers. folding clothes. re-reading the same sentence because your brain wandered into next week.

you start thinking things.
like:
“i wonder if i’ll ever feel fully prepared for anything.”
“do people see me the way i see myself?”
“what if this version of me is the one i’ll miss later?”

i’ve been saying these things in my head a lot.
not because i’m hiding anything, but because i don’t always have the words ready.
it’s not depression. it’s not existential dread.
it’s more like… standing in the middle of a quiet room and realizing,
oh. this is my life.
and it’s quiet. and it’s mine.

sometimes i feel like i’m living in a coming-of-age movie no one’s filming.
like, i’ll be brushing my hair or buying milk and suddenly the background score swells except it’s just in my head and i’m both the protagonist and the audience.
there’s no applause. no lesson. just another tuesday and me figuring it out.

growing up hasn’t made me colder.
it’s made me softer.
like i’ve finally accepted that most people including me are doing their best.
and sometimes our “best” looks like accidentally crying at 4 pm for no reason.
sometimes it’s replying to texts five days late.
sometimes it’s just drinking water and showing up.

its your first time living too

i think there’s something quietly powerful about becoming a person who notices ,who pauses, who forgives.
especially in a world that keeps telling us to speed up, do more, scroll faster.

so here’s to the things i’ve said in my head but never out loud:

• i hope i’m not too much when i’m excited about something.

• i miss being held without needing to explain anything.

• i think i’m slowly becoming the kind of woman i used to look up to.

• i’m terrified, but i’m still here.

that’s what growing up really is.
not crossing milestones but whispering truths to yourself and hoping someday, you’ll say them out loud

not to be heard, but just to know they exist.

you exist.

and honestly? you’re doing just fine.

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