Trigger warning: explicit language. I absolutely did not censor myself in this one. Sorry Grandma, your son-in-law raised a true sailor.
“I cannot wait until your frontal lobe fully develops”
My mom has been saying this to me since I was 12 years old. Yes, I understood physiologically what she was talking about (if you don’t, I’ll leave a link at the bottom because I’m nowhere near qualified enough to explain it and I’m exhausted). Still, emotionally I had no idea what she meant.
I brushed it off, my frontal lobe was like Big Foot, a myth that I might one day see.
But God damn! When it does, that shit hits like a ton of bricks!
Growing up is so weird, or I should just say; life is so weird.
Recently, I went back to school in a sense. Back in February, I joined our local department’s fire academy. Then in August, I signed up for an EMT course at our college, I also moved to a much better living situation.
Not only was I back in school, but I was living in a stable “normal” living situation for the first time in 5 years.
I turned 29 this past July and to say I’ve lived many lives in the last 10 years is a gross understatement. I’ve climbed mountains in Alaska, danced under the northern lights in Iceland, watched a full solar eclipse in South Carolina, highlined above Yosemite Valley, lived in a junkyard in my car, and the list just goes on.
When I graduated college, I didn’t just sip from life’s cup, I held that thing over my head and drowned in that bitch. Let me tell you, it’s not all good either. I’ve spoken on it before, so I won’t again, but I’ll quote Rocky “Nothing’s going to hit you harder than life”.
Don’t worry this isn’t an inspirational piece, if you’re like me you get enough of that from the sticky notes posted all over your bathroom mirror.
This is about reflection. Of course from my constantly introspecting ass.
The last year I’ve been thinking a lot about 2017-2018 Shelby. God, she was amazing, I look up to her as if she were El Cap herself. I’ve been trying to find a piece of her inside me, grab hold, and yank that little carefree grom to the surface. What was she doing? Feeling? What was her situation? How can I emulate that to be THAT happy again?
Whoa! Pump the breaks dude. It’s a nice thought and I’m sure we all have had these thoughts, but that’s not possible. No, not because I’m not living at home anymore. No, not because I have more wrinkles. It’s not possible, because I’m a whole new person. I mean, I’m still me and 24-year-old Shelby is still very much inside me, but I have shed my skin not once, but 1000 times over.
I have left jobs, states, people, and situations that no longer serve me. To try and yank an old version of myself back out would be absolutely unfair, not to just me, but the people around me.
What I’m trying to say in the most circumloquacious way is, we change. And how great is that?!
Our priorities change as we change. Our dreams, our anxieties, the whole shebang! What’s not to love about that?
I like to think that 24-year-old, 17-year-old, and even 8-year-old Shelby is super stoked on 29-year-old Shelby. And if we’re sticking to the whole “time isn’t real” analogy then 40-year-old Shelby is stoked too.
Let yourself change, let yourself grow, and don’t try to pluck old, happier versions of yourself back from the depths.
I’m currently happier than I’ve been in years, I’m currently more tired than I’ve been in years, but hey guess what? I have a beautiful cozy room, and I don’t have to hang my clothes up all around my car in hopes of having dry socks in the morning (if you get the reference you’ve been here a while, spoiler, they’re never dry).
Every new chapter is like Christmas, who knows what or who you’ll be. My guess is though, she’s going to be pretty fucking rad.
Here’s that link for ya’ll.
Where In the World is Shelby Lynn 