Getting There —

April 7, 1992

This is probably my nth post on my ramblings about how I feel now that I’m in a phase that’s supposedly a woman’s ‘coming-of-age’. I may seem like a narcissistic writer who has nothing else to talk about but her innermost struggles and I apologize for finding it so hard to write about other things that are of interest to most of you.

I can’t quite pinpoint why, but somehow I always go back to rethinking about who I am and if this is who I should be at 19. Bluntly speaking, I feel like I’ve missed out on that phase of being a ‘careless teenager’. Not that I think its wrong — it is a phase for a reason — but I just can’t seem to grasp why one goes through it anyway. While this year is my third year in the Ateneo, I still haven’t done anything too juvenile to make up for a wild Friday night tale. Like I’ve said time and time before,

“I am not a party-alcohol-2am virgin, but neither have I been a party-alcohol-2am regular. It’s always just me and a little past midnight, being the I’ll-head-out-early-goody-two-miss-no-alcohol shoes I expect myself to be and the daughter my parents have raised me to become for the past 18 years.” [LINK]

Maybe I still have trouble accepting that innocence only lasts but for a time. That my being a child is now a long gone period — all these I know of, but I feel like I have somehow managed to skip being people my age. I do not know if I do regret it, but a part of me knows that I’m here by choice. There are just so many things I want to accomplish in life that my focus is just really building up my future. And with my expectations not being fulfilled at the time, there’s just no room for fooling around.

Don’t get me wrong — no, I haven’t lost life altogether. I’m still living it the way I want to, filled with more and more laughter each morning that greets  me. I am enjoying every single bit of work, academics and doses of stress here and there all too well without any (well, maybe a little) complaints whatsoever. I’m a happy bee, I tell you — I just am unsure why I feel alienated from my generation.

The photo above was taken the day I was born — I put it up now to remind me that although I feel like I haven’t reached my star, I started as a helpless child who is now very much on her way…and getting there.

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4 thoughts on “Getting There —

  1. I know what you mean by that. If you were really meant to be that type of teenager, you would have. It doesn’t make you any less of a person, nor does it mean you’re missing out on anything. My mom never drank at any point in her life (at least that’s what she told me) and maybe it’s because it wasn’t her priority.

    I’m proud of you for being so driven, Kara Santiago!

    1. Thank you so much Joyce. It means a lot to me :’) I wish I couldve met your Mom at some point in our friendship — no wonder you’re such a great person! :’) Thank you Joyce! I, too, am such a proud friend! Enjoy Espana! I will miss you terribly. 😦

  2. I’ve been reading your blog and I find it comforting that I can very well say, “same here.” I don’t know what wild partying and getting drunk feels like. I guess we seem to find a gazillion other more fun things to do; things which we find more important and meaningful to spend our time on. I guess different people feel alive in different ways, and we aren’t really missing out on anything.

    I like the way you write and the way you look at life, Kara. I hope we get to hang out more together sometime!

    Love,
    Dess

    1. Thank you Dess! I couldn’t have said it better than you did! Here’s to the gazillion things we ought to do! >:D< Love you!

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