When I was young I didn’t have a care in the world. I suppose that’s the charm of being a kid; your biggest concern is when Blue’s Clues is coming on and wondering how many green polo shirts Steve had in his closet.
When I was young I went to Kingsbury Hill Riding Camp. I was fearless when it came to the horses, to making friends, and making memories. I fell in love with the meanest horse, and proudly proclaimed my summers were filled with horses, flies, and shoveling poop. I didn’t care if someone turned their nose up at those attributes to my summer, and perhaps not caring is a perk of being young.
When I was young I loved to swim. I learned to swim in a pool with my grandma, who took me to my swimming lessons at the Y. Growing up summering on Martha’s Vineyard meant that I loved the ocean. I loved the beach. I loved sand in my hair, bathing suit, and between my toes.
When I was young I loved to talk on the phone. My first “boyfriend” used to call me after 9pm, which was a huge no-no in my house; he had to call before 8. Regardless, we would talk for hours and hours about nothing and everything. We would talk until one of us fell asleep and we would say things like: “I’m looking at the same stars you are,” and that was all we needed. I suppose that’s the simplicity of youth in dating.
There is such beauty in the simplicity of being young. As I approach my 30′s, I find myself returning to that carefree mindset that we lose quite abruptly as we navigate our teens and early 20′s. Things I loved turned to things I hated in an effort to be cool during my most turbulent years. Now, as I embrace being older, I’m embracing not giving a fuck. It’s liberating, and just as exciting as being 11 and waiting for the mail to come on Blue’s Clues.