Adulting… sort of

When did I grow up?

From toffees

to dark chocolate,

“ahem, 85% cocoa only”

From bruises on my body

to whispers that settled deep in my heart, slowly.

From wine, beer, anything alcoholic,

to “just coffee please… an Americano, nothing symbolic.”

From fighting curfews, dancing till 3 a.m.,

to whispering, “I need my bed by 10, not them.”

From venting out of exhaustion,

to offering an ear despite my own erosion.

From spending money as if it grew in the yard,

to (trying to) save, knowing sweat makes it hard.

From pocket money thrills to doing my own taxes.

From gossip that spilled and refused to cease,

to silences that pour and bring quiet peace.

From insecure battles I once tried to win,

to the quiet contentment that rests within.

From fear of judgment that made me hide,

to an open heart worn on the outside.

From shrinking to fit in, losing my stand,

to embracing who I am, just as I am, unplanned.

From restricting and judging myself all along,

to gently indulging, letting my heart sing its song.

It feels like growing up, and yet…

Somewhere inside, I still sing nursery tunes and get lost in daydreams.

I did grow up.

But did I, really?