A Letter To The Restless Girls

To the restless girls, 

I see you fidgeting in the classroom waiting for the bell to ring.  I know what it feels like to lie on your bed and stare at the ceiling, waiting for something, anything to happen.  I’ve heard the thoughts of self doubt and excitement run through your mind because they have run through mine too.  I know what it feels like to want to grow up now, to have your life together and be done with the pains that being young demands.  I feel your pain of wanting, of wanting that person to notice you, of wanting everyone to know your name, of wanting to change the world and wanting to be invisible all at the same time.  To those restless girls, to those restless kids, I feel stuck just like you do.  I feel the weight of time pass me by as I stand in the same spot, unmoving.  I know the frustration of feeling bigger than your body, but not knowing what to do with the emotion.  I feel that desire to create, to talk, to dance, to sing, but thinking that I don’t have the ability to do so.  That I don’t have anything interesting to create, or anything new to add to the conversation.  That I’m not a good enough singer or dancer or writer.  I feel just as scared as you do that everything has already been done.  That I’m already washed up when I haven’t even gotten the chance to start.  I know all these feelings because I’m a restless girl too. Boredom and anxiety seem to rule my mind, all I seem to do is sleep and watch.  I don’t act.  I was never taught to act, but how to observe.  Is that the same for you? I watch these boys play loud music, push to the front, move their bodies with zero inhibitions, and I crave what they have.  I crave their ability to push, to move without worry if their dress is hiked up or if their bra is showing.  Restless boys do reckless things, while me, a restless girl, sits in her room and observes the world.  Do you feel the same way? 

Madison