Hey Nineteen

For fairly obvious reasons,(obvious that is, if you've read any of my prior postings) I've spent a good bit of time thinking about adolescence. Mine, my children's and in general. Also about my early adulthood. Choices made, the road not taken...you get the idea. Hindsight, after all, is twenty-twenty.

Now, I don't know about the rest of you, but looking back, and during that time, I thought being a teenager sucked. Big time. Jr. High, for example, was for me a trip through hell that made Dante look like a day at Disneyland. I was shunned, despised, made the butt of cruel jokes and on a good day only had to put up with whispered insults and laughter. Some of those memories still have the power to make me cry or cringe with shame and embarrassment.

High school was a slight improvement, although the school day itself was not much improved. I had finally developed some friendships with people outside of my school district and since they didn't know that I was a pariah, their friendship kept me going. Then too, I had to some degree achieved camouflage. I managed to pretend to fit in. Sort of.

So, over the years, when people would say things like "Oh, I'd give anything to be 16 again" I'd think "I'd rather be stripped naked, rolled in honey and staked on an anthill." I've often been heard to say that there is no amount of money that could induce me to live those years over again, even knowing what I know now.

Also, I've come to believe that regret is, for the most part, a wasted emotion. The past is what it is. Deal with it and move on. If you don't like the results of past choices, learn from it or forget it and start again from where you are. The reality is that we do the best we can with what we have at the time. Right?

But. I have recently come to the conclusion that nineteen is the best year. If there were any way to go back and start over from that point, especially with today's knowledge, then I would give everything I own for the opportunity. I'd probably even sell my soul for it.

Nineteen is the perfect age. You're finally an adult. Yeah, I know, eighteen is supposedly the big year, but I was still in my senior year. Nineteen and you have the first year of adulthood under your belt. But you're still given leeway in some quarters because you have a way to go before you're twenty one. At nineteen you have energy, health and exuberant youth on your side. No permanent life altering decisions have yet been made (at least in my case). That was the year I got engaged. Trust me, that would be different the second time around!

At nineteen the world is at your feet. Wide open with opportunities. No holds barred, all is possible. And the sad part is that at the time I sensed that, but wasn't smart enough to grab hold and tenaciously pursue my dreams. For you see, I could only conceive of one way to achieve something. Once I had in my thick skull an idea of how something could be accomplished, I became a victim of tunnel vision. If my way didn't work then I couldn't conceive of there being an alternative. My god what and idiot! And so, choice by choice, I boxed myself in and was left with fewer and fewer options.

Eventually I pulled said skull out of rear bodily orifice and started to try to resurrect my dreams. Little by little I have reclaimed myself over the last ten years and am gaining ground all the time. But some things have passed me by. That's life. And if I spent too much time wallowing in regrets, then I'd be shortchanging my present and future. And to be fair, I like who I am. For the most part.

But if anyone ever offers me the chance to do it all again, starting at nineteen, with today's knowledge, then watch out world. I'd take it by storm. And I'd be willing to give just about anything for the chance. All my worldly possessions. My aforementioned soul. Hey, even better, my firstborn! Where's Rumplestiltskin when you need him? I mean to a guy who can turn straw into gold, what's a little time travel? If any of you run across him, send him my way. I think we could do business.