How (Not) to Grow Up

Let your sister do your makeup even though it hurts when she tugs your hair back or smacks you for flinching. You’ll miss being her human doll when she lives across the country. You’ll wish you could head down the hall and knock on her door just to sit on her bed and be in each other’s company. You’ll miss making her late for school in the mornings and sharing earbuds on the bus. You’ll stare at your closet in hopelessness wishing your sister was there to help you pick an outfit for a first date.

Memorize the sound of your mother getting ready for work in the mornings, heels clicking across the hall above your bedroom. The sound of the lock turning at the end of the day when she comes home, and her perfume fills the entryway. Now you come home to a cold empty home and fight with the door to let you in. 

Remember what it was like to be a child in spring when the earthy, mud-filled scent of the season fills the air one sunny morning on your walk to work. Savour the feeling of the sunlight on your skin after a long winter and know that it will always be there. Good things remain after the days of soccer fields and orange slices are long behind you. 

Eat ice cream often. Remember what it was like to be a child on a family vacation in Italy, eating copious amounts of Nutella gelato without worrying about how much sugar you’ve consumed. Wear clothing that makes you feel how you did sporting massive heart-shaped sunglasses in 2012, like no one can take away your light. 

Crying feels the same at every age. Don’t ever let anyone harden you. Your softness is what makes you human and letting yourself feel everything is the kindest thing you can do for yourself. Don’t be afraid to call your mom when a boy breaks your heart for the first time and your heart feels as heavy as the day you had to put your childhood dog down. Light a candle and crawl under your covers. Drink a cup of tea and try not to ruminate. 

 This is how (not) to grow up. 

When you’re falling asleep in the back of a cab in the early hours of the morning, remember the feeling of a late-night drive with your parents. Falling asleep effortlessly in the back seat, knowing you’re in good hands, as safe as can be. Knowing you don’t have to worry about the final destination because you’ll wake up in a warm bed. You may wake up momentarily when the car rolls to a stop – hushed voices and the noise of the engine being cut. You pretend to be asleep so that you’ll be tossed over a shoulder and gently carried indoors, your small head bobbing ever so slightly with every footfall. 

Call your grandparents and let them know you miss them. You may not be able to walk down the street and bake peanut butter cookies with your grandpa anymore, but it’s still nice to hear his voice through the phone. Remember that your grandma wants to know about everything going on in your life. Fill her in on all the gossip. She always gives the best advice.

Dance Often. 

Build a fort in the snow with your friends after a storm. Make a snowman with a questionable smirk and feel the same childlike joy you felt as a kid playing four-square at recess. Forget about the ever-growing list of things on your to-do list and enjoy the fresh air. Life is simple when you let it be.

Move away from home and start college with all the certainty of a child performing their first music recital. Get out there knowing you are ready even though you may never feel fully prepared. Bring your stuffed animal to your new dorm so that you have a small comfort once your parents say goodbye and you’re all alone in that small room. 

This is how (not) to grow up. 

Listen to The Paper Kites while you fall asleep because you miss your dad, and you should’ve been nicer to him back in middle school when he interrupted your favourite show to ask how your day was.

Rent a house with your best friends and cover the walls with colourful sticky notes of funny things your friends have said. Cook soup that your mother used to make and feed your roommates knowing that they all miss the comfort of a home-cooked meal sometimes. Remember that you’re still practically a child, barely twenty, and that you’re not supposed to have it all figured out. Surround yourself with people that make the uncertainty feel like a blessing. 

Subconsciously rearrange your college room to look like your childhood bedroom. Keep the fairy lights, white walls, lamplight, candles, white sheets. Replace the framed photographs with Guinness beer posters. It is college after all.

Sit outside on the porch steps after a long day at school. Just breathe. Take off your headphones because you’ve spent the whole day trying to block things out and you realize you haven’t heard the birds singing or the wind in the trees. Watch neighbours come home for the night, elderly folk walking their dogs, the boys two doors down practicing tricks on their skateboards. The sky looks pretty, and it reminds you of how lovely the sun looked shining on the river behind your childhood house. Realize you may have taken it for granted when you came home after the eighth grade and rushed straight inside to watch tv.

Go hiking with your roommate at a provincial park. Sit next to her on the chartered bus and notice how different the topography of the Nova Scotian countryside is from your hometown in Manitoba. To get anywhere from Winnipeg, you’d have to spend hours on the road, looking out over flat fields of neon canola plants and sunflowers. Reflect on the road trip your family took when you were just five years old, packing up the silver rusted van and setting out to visit the Grand Canyon. How scary it was when you got stuck in a long line of cars and trailers, blocked by a herd of bison crossing the road. Remember how you unbuckled your seatbelt and lay down in the trunk of the van to avoid the watchful gaze of the giant beast whose eye was level with the roof of the van.

This is how (not) to grow up. 

Go to the arena to watch your friends play hockey (poorly). Let the smell of the arena bring you back to your ringette days. Travelling from cold arena to cold arena, cheering for your sister’s team from the stands. Hot chocolate has never tasted as good as it did from those canteens, one cup for you and one for your grandpa who watched every single one of your games growing up. Smile at the thought of each team gearing up before the game, singing along to their hockey playlists and slapping each other on the shoulders. All the pressure of childhood sports gone, knowing they’re playing just for fun and don’t have to worry about parents shouting down from the stands. Regardless of what happens, their friends will be there to cheer for them. You wonder how long it will take you to realize the same is true about life. 

This is how to grow up.