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The Evolution from Girl to Woman (1 Viewer)

TJ_302

Member
You can never see regret until its written in words in front of you. That way you can be your very own psychiatrist.
I study evolution at university, but its always presented as social phenomenon that cannot be witnessed in humans unless its over millions of years. I believe that evolution for humans can be individualistic, and traced many times over in one lifetime. We evolve everyday, but I won't be presenting this as a graduate thesis.....


At the time I wasn’t prepared for the reality of my actions as I transitioned ideas from mere fantasy to tangible incidents in my life. I only saw a theatrical production with very sophisticated and complex nuances. I was going to be my very own production. It was Hollywood, but infected with authenticity because there isn't a cutting room floor in real life. I planned, I really did, and I even implented alot of what I considered necessary action. What's that saying about best laid plans? Controlling the natural progression of my life seemed well advised until I realized that beyond myself are factors that I could not control. Of course, all my self-revelations come fashionably late and are always sporting "I told you so" faces. Excuses came eagerly as if they had been in wait since the very beginning. They never show up until after I've made a pretty mess of everything.
I think I spent too much time searching for significance where there was none. I was looking for a way to become a heroine. Something about the story of my life never made me feel like the female protagonist in it. I felt as if that role was always beyond my reach, and I was an understudy to a bigger name. Therefore, I had to force the issue. Diplomacy, however, has never been a trait I could attribute to myself but rocking the boat was, and is, my signature move. I decided that I would have to evolve in order to play an active role in my own live. I was going to become a brave, strong, resilient woman and no longer the young girl I came to dislike for her idleness. It came down to proving my worthiness. I saw myself as a vigilante, a revolutionary star in a saga I wrote and directed. It was going to be the single most heroic and magnificent plot I had ever penned, or in this case, lived. Even I can hear the shocking naiveté in the fantasy I indulged in all those years ago.
What was I thinking? Well, I needed to be dramatic, overzealous, and completely committed to being intensely narcissistic. I had to tease that fine line between insanity and brilliance. I had to become more than what I was, and act in a way that was dynamic, powerful even amoral. To be a woman was to act accordingly. I wanted my liberation. I, who had so often sat on the sidelines and watched things happen to me, would now participate aggressively in my life. In retrospect, my need to transition from girl to woman, forced me to behave in a manner that was very pubescent, yet adult enough to get me inducted. I realize now, as a woman who is often mystified at the line she crossed to get here, being adult is subjective at best. Maturity carries all aspects of youth, but forces its juvenile tendencies to hide behind a mask of development. I went through a forced growth phase and that meant behaving in a manner completely suited for somebody younger than I. But it was with this behavior that I learned, many years later, what it truly means to be a woman. It means being able to say you fucked up. And mean it.
 
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