I Am Mine

“Then one day, in his own good time, Leo bloomed.”

 Robert Kraus, Leo the Late Bloomer

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I am different.  I am behind and always have been.  What constitutes as a storm for me is fair weather for most.  I can handle drama and heartbreak and independence and being alone, but getting a haircut? Making a phone call? Hanging out?  All these are inexplicably difficult for me.  While in many ways I have always been mature for my age, I’ve also always been a late bloomer.

• When the other girls were discovering boys, I had the perspective to see how ridiculous middle school “dating” was, but was also too behind to care at all.  And so I picked up the explanation that Naomi does not date.

• When they were buying makeup and nail polish and experimenting with how to present themselves, I was still too busy playing in the woods with my stories. And so I reasoned that Naomi is not feminine.

• When the others were becoming intensely and self-consciously aware of the outside world, I tried my hardest not to fit in.  And so I accepted that Naomi is just weird.

• When friends cried during cheesy movies and experienced the turbulence of emotion, I felt nothing.  And so I concluded that Naomi is a rational, rather than emotional, being.

Now, years later, as I am blooming in these areas, I am finally becoming unshackled by the explanations and identities with which I have clothed myself over the years.  As I write this, my toenails are painted bright pink.  I recently went on my first ever shopping trip of my own volition, and there was a solid two week stretch a while back were I showered every single day!  I am growing in ways I never thought I would.

Growth takes time.  It is unpredictable and full of surprises.  And that is the fun of it.  Sometimes I long to be on the same timetable as others.  But in the end, I am happier being me.  Funny, little ol’ Naomi.  Naomi who wore a terry cloth turban to school to celebrate “Towel Day.”  Naomi who feels sick to her stomach about things that make most girls giddy.  Naomi who is different, who has so far to grow, but is enjoying the innocence and ignorance of her slow process.  “So never mind  I will not pine, for I am mine.”

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