I find it funny, and sad at the same time, how little I've written here.

I've changed so much since I started this blog or journal, however you would like to call it, and I didn't start realizing so until just a little while ago. I have changed a lot.

Firstly, I learned how to do a lot of things; sew, cook, cross-stitch, paint, caulk, write... the list goes on. These are simple things that any person should and could learn to do, things that bring both peace and frustration to my life, things that have made simple changes to my person.

Secondly, I've been pondering a lot more. "Pondering what?" That is your reaction. My answer is, "I simply ponder." Gospel principles, the future... but mostly about becoming an adult. I'm 18 now and considered by the government to be an adult, but what does it truly mean?

I've pondered so much about how to make myself turn from a teenage girl into a woman (I hate that word... not the meaning of it, just the word itself). Women have a way to them, a certain something that I can't exactly pinpoint. They are adults; I feel somewhere in the middle. I'm too "advanced," per se, to think like a teenager or to partake of young women's classes anymore, yet I lack something that prevents me from truly progressing into the relief society or "woman" world. What is it? What is it that I want to have, but that I don't?

Perhaps experience. Life experience. This is a difficult topic to discuss; because many adults haven't had nearly the same experiences I've had. I've suffered through an ill-tempered mother, a father that was rarely at home, severe money shortages and the following one-meal-per-day plan, the fear of my family being divided by a divorce between my parents, the repeated experience of feeling left in the dark while my mother was lying in a hospital bed and being sick--no one would explain to me what was happening. Not when I was 6, not when I was 12, not when I was 14, not when I was 16, not when I was 17. I hadn't even found out that my mother had had a stroke until she accidentally let it slip while we were talking... and that was just a couple of months ago. I'm 18, and am still left in the dark.

I've lived in places where drugs and sex ruled the neighborhood. I've been the unpopular one in a crowd, I've been pointed and laughed at. I've been so poor, that my school bought me glasses so that I could see better. My school paid for my classes. My school paid for my field trips.

I've also experienced what it means to truly be in tune with the Holy Spirit. Christ has been my best friend throughout my entire life; that is something I cannot deny. I like to take time out of my day to just... walk outside and appreciate beauty. To bond further with my Brother, the Best of all of my Best Friends. He is my rock, my everlasting God. My companion when there were and are none, my escape from everything. He guides me daily, He leads me to do right. He knows me, inside and out. I don't think I can ever find another person who could get so close to me. This sort of companionship is something that I would wish for everyone; and I pray that my children will be able to have it.

I've experienced many, many things... and I know that I have to experience more to become the adult I so desperately crave to be.

I haven't any job experience. I've worked odd jobs, I've babysat, I've worked with money and people, but I've never had a paying, 9-5, 5-day-a-week job. I regret that, and I want to have one. A real job.

What is it about the woman I watch, who cradles her baby in her arms while her 2-year-old tugs at her sleeve? What is that missing quality that I don't have? I know that it isn't simply motherhood; I know of too many women who aren't married and don't have children, who still posess that x factor.

I can't pinpoint it, and it bothers me. What is it? I feel that I already have a lot of good qualities, but I don't feel like an adult. I feel protected, like I'm being shielded from the world by my parents. Is that it? Are my parents holding me back? I feel this dire need to leave home when I'm at home; to move out, to live on my own. That part of me is the part that craves with every fibre of my being to become that adult I'm so keen on becoming. That part of me is that part of me that I want to take over. I want to be that adult that I can be.

I dislike the question, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" I've already grown a lot. To ask me this makes me feel as though I'm being treated like the child that I've always been treated as. I've already asked myself similar questions, too many times in the past. I've already contemplated this, both with fear and excitement. I don't need to be reminded that I'm not "grown up," exactly. I don't need to be reminded that I'm in-between. I hate being in this position; in between. It reeks of my longing to have an actual childhood, it reeks of my longing to grow up and accomplish my goals. It simply reeks. Bitter, bitter feelings I have towards being in this place.

When I grow up, I just want to be grown.