The Musings of an Overgrown Teenager

by Andilyn Jenkins

This past week, I went to the annual ANWA Writer’s Conference, which brought me to self-evaluate not just my writing, but all my goals and aspirations. Where do I want to be? And what am I doing to get there?

I am twenty-five. Which means I am old enough to have children but young enough to still act like one. I am old enough to balance a checkbook but young enough to still blow spending cash on new clothes. I am old enough to admit my naivety but young enough to be bold regardless. I am old enough to go to bed at 9:00 p.m. but young enough to stay out until 2:00 a.m. with the right group of girls. I am old enough that I see my future in long-term but young enough that I still believe anything is possible. Young enough to dream. Old enough to fight against dreams in the name of comfort and familiarity.

I see that to the world I’m just a baby. But I don’t feel like a baby. I feel like the clock is ticking and the historians are waiting for me to make my mark, and I’ve already waited too long. But I suppose the feeling that mankind is waiting, pen poised for my first step is the epitome of that self-absorbed time we call youth. So, I am a baby? After all, I’m only twenty-five. Right?

Time to go pick out a mountain. #ANWAcon15