Sometimes, I realise I am still 14 year old Wagg. I still can’t talk to girls and I still wonder why girls would ever want to talk to me. I still chuckle when I hear someone say “snog” and I still want to say “crush”: because that’s all it is – it’s not love it’s just some futile little attachment.
But most of all I know I’m still 14 year old Wagg because I know growing up terrifies me. In a few months I’ll be 21. Yup, 21. All around me people are doing degrees, moving out, having children and getting engaged. I still want to make cookies and play in the snow.
I want my life to move forward; I want to do all the things that other people are doing but it’s still ok for that to scare me, right?
I think the truth of it all is that everybody is scared: granted, not about the same things but there’s that underlying fear in every single one of us. Or, I’d like to imagine there is. However, I think most people are scared to admit that they’re scared.
But I’m not.
14 year old Wagg wouldn’t say it because she’s trying, desperately, to look effortlessly cool and calm but 20 year old Wagg doesn’t have to hide to behind that idealistic exterior. 20 year old Wagg is worryingly honest and laughingly uncool and not calm.
14 year old Wagg might have just dropped and smashed a glass because she was thinking about a girl but 20 year old Wagg is picking up the pieces of glass and saying “This day has been awful: I just keep dropping things”.
Whilst 20 year old Wagg wants to ignore her younger self little traits keep popping back up. And where I’d previously want to ignore them, I am now embracing them. 14 year old Wagg is the nervous kid who blushes and stutters and trips up in public. But now, 6 years later, 20 year old Wagg is picking her up and dragging her into the next stage of her life.