I have always found myself absorbed in generations I'll never know, attempting to connect to movements I'll never be a part of, nostalgic for a time I'll never experience. But it's not a wistful look to a bygone era, it's a desire to understand where I'm going. As someone on the brink of real adulthood, well past adolescence but freshly into a new chapter of life, I find myself reflecting back on the years in between, wishing I could retrace my steps. Never having truly appreciated the freedom and spark of youth, always longing for adulthood, if I knew then what I know now, would I have allowed myself to just enjoy it? Would I have been so afraid? Now, at the age of 22, I'm constantly wondering where to place myself. If this was the 1930s, I would have been an "adult" for years now, possibly married off and succumbing to whatever societal standards were set in place for me, or perhaps fighting against those standards. Either way, I wouldn't have had the luxury of making the mistakes and having the experiences of being a teenager, because the cultural construct of a teenager had yet to even come into existence.
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