Hello, my name is Christina, and I’m already regretting revealing that I am, in fact, a seventeen-year-old girl. As someone who often spends time with people considerably older than me, preconceived notions about me because of my age and gender are my downfall. My hardships are automatically discredited, only perceived worthy of that label by me because of my overly-emotional instincts and lack of “real” life experiences. My innocence is placed on a pedestal, something that must be protected at all costs, and inclusion is on the price tag. My intelligence (not to be confused with knowledge) is severely doubted to the point where I doubt it myself. My learning is scoffed at by those who have forgotten what it’s like to be new to something (which, by the way, is a feeling that should never be unfamiliar, but that’s for an entirely separate blog post).
So, why did I reveal my age in the title of my very first blog post?
I enjoy a good challenge.
I want to challenge your beliefs, even and especially if they are incognizant, about young girls. We are not incompetent, irrational creatures using our looks and emotions to manipulate our way through our dramatized, effortless lives. We are capable. We are intelligent. We’re individuals, all unique with our share of hardships, experiences, characteristics, and talents (all of which are valid). We don’t fit into a stereotype (Highlight? Like, a book? I LOVE ANNOTATING BOOKS. Wait, highlighting your face? Isn’t that toxic?). We are people, and what we have to say is worth listening to.
I want to challenge my beliefs about myself. Others’ doubts about me somehow find their way into the mix of self-deprecating thoughts my mind uses against me as arsenal, and every time the trigger is pulled, the more my confidence bleeds out, leaving me immobile. Well, no more. I’m patching myself up, walking on two feet (or on particularly rough days, I’ll hop on one foot), and if need be, I’m going to the hospital and accepting help from others. My age, my gender, my whatever, will not hold me back from attempting success.
So yes, I am, in fact, a seventeen-year-old girl, but no, that does not mean I am immature. Yes, I am a seventeen-year-old girl, but no, that does not mean my life has not yet begun. Yes, I am a seventeen-year-old girl, but no, that does not mean my words are meaningless.
While all of these statements are true, don’t take my word for it. Allow me to prove it to you through the poems, late night thoughts, and life experiences I will fill this blog with.
Without further ado, welcome to my blog; I hope you enjoy your stay.