I’ll be the first to admit that I can’t stand teenagers. And, to be honest, I couldn’t stand being a teenager. That’s what we’re talking about today, that’s it.
I think the reason being one was so damn hard for me, and I’m sure for anyone, is that you have far too much input thrown at you all at once. School becomes harder, your parents want you to stop acting like a kid, you still have the restrictions of a kid and you’re finally realising that you are a sentient human – welcome to the struggle of trying to figure out who you are.
On top of that you, all of a sudden, have to come to terms with the fact that your parents are also sentient humans – in that they make mistakes – this is an extra hard pill to swallow. You of course, make your own mistakes, but then how is one supposed to feel when the whole world is made of mistakes?
You’re under pressure to decide what you want to do for the rest of your life which feels like an impossibly long road. How in the hell are you supposed to know what route to take on a road that can span something like 70 years? Why is that decision put on you?
It’s crazy to me, to think now how many pressures I felt back then. In fairness, I have different ones now, rent and relationships and general adult things. But I would not trade it back, let me tell you, teenagers can keep their pressures.
Not to mention the addition of social media to all this. God, if I thought I was insecure as a kid I simply can’t imagine how I would have felt about myself if I had an Instagram account at 13 years old.
I guess I’m trying to figure out if I can’t hack being around teenagers anymore because I sincerely don’t like them, or I don’t like what they remind me of. It may a little bit of both.
I sound a bit old lady here but the teenagers I come across today are snotty little shits. Getting drunk at fifteen and flipping off drivers as they stand in the middle of the road at 9pm. Go read a book. Go study. You clearly need more education.
That’s it. Rant over.
Until next time x