Growing up is realizing that not all people stick around.

The people who promised to stay will have to leave.

The people who said they'd always support you will disagree.

The people you can't imagine a holiday without will fade, age taking its toll until a memory is all that's left. 

The people who held you in your darkest moments won't stand beside you as the sun peeks through the storm clouds. 

The people who matter, the ones you need? They'll make a habit of showing up- out of the blue, with arms wide open, or through a parcel in the mail, a call, a text.

 

Growing up is realizing that sometimes, you won't be okay.

And that the response is not to say "I'm fine."

And that the response is not anger.

And that the response allowed is not, "You will be fine, though."

And that the response is: I am not okay.

And that the response is acknowledgement that while it will get better, now is hard.

 

Growing up is realizing that time doesn't wait for you.

They say, "Time flies."

They say, "Time heals."

They say, "It will get better, give it time."

They don't say, "The moments will feel like months, waiting for a text, a call, a nod in your direction."

They don't say, "You will lose months of your life to grief, and you will never see them again."

 

Growing up is realizing that tears can burn.

Time after time, the tears will come.

Time after time, you'll fight them back.

Time after time, some will glare, roll their eyes or ask "WHY are you crying?"

Time after time, someone will be there: a tissue, a shoulder, a shield from the world.

Time after time, you may have to be that person, there for yourself and others.

 

Growing up is realizing we're all hurting.

The stranger on the street? Their uncle, father, brother, husband, just passed.

The stranger in the store? Grieving the diagnoses: dementia, lupus, cancer, "she won't live outside the womb."

The stranger who ran the stop sign? Didn't see it, tears blurring their vision.

The stranger who looks lost? Facing the world alone for the first time in a long time. 

The stranger reading this? Your hurts matter too.

 

Growing up is choosing to be vulnerable anyway.

Showing up when your heart is breaking.

Texting back with the benefit of the doubt.

Participating when you'd rather hide.

Smiling at strangers as you fight back the tears.

Holding out a helping hand, because you've been the one hurting.

 

Growing up is seeing anger and hatred and unfairness and lies and betrayal and terrible things... and fighting against them. 

Growing up is choosing life and love and faith and kindness and peace; it's stepping out and standing up even when you wouldn't have to.

Growing up is choosing to be more than required.

Growing up? Isn't an adventure to be taken lightly.