Of Being 16

I was out for dinner with Abah, my brother and my sister. Bringing along a novel, my waiting time was used splendidly. Grace was a beautiful companion and I thank Mary Hooper for Grace. But there was one thing that I've learned not from the novel, but from the environment itself. There are things that books can't teach us because we need to use our observations to take note of things around us.

So, we were waiting for our food when a boy walked into the restaurant with his face like a shriveled apricot. I didn't notice him at first since I was too busy with my novel. But then, he sat at the table next to us. His parents were there too. He was wearing a pair of (very) baggy jeans with a blue t-shirt. And yes, his frowning face crowned the whole look of course. Judging by his style, I think he must be in his teen years. Probably 15, maybe 16. Not more. He was so busy commenting on his haircut ( I believe, he just had one). He was blaming the barber for the oh-so-short haircut (which to me, seemed just fine). And his parents were convincing him that he looked more handsome in that short haircut. He was throwing a fit, not a very obvious one, but since I was observing, I happened to notice his behaviour. I think it was rude to be pulling his face in front of his parents just because of the bad haircut and I think his parents were doing a very good job trying to be patient with his attitude. 

Then, I kinda reflect on myself. "Would I do the same thing when I was 16?" I questioned myself. 

I remembered that I used to shout at my dad, blaming him for this (bad) choice that I just made and how it actually affected my life at that very time. My dad was a huge part of my choice on moving to Taiping. I never did like it. I wasn't enjoying myself during my first year in Taiping. I wanted to stay at my old school because I've made a promise with a person (who happened to be trash-talking me once I left) that I would stick to my roots. I thought sticking to my roots meant staying at the same place. Boy, I was wrong. I didn't give a chance for myself to grow and mature at that time. I was too busy looking back, trying to be the same "me". I didn't want to change myself, but I had forgotten how humans are prone to changes. That was how we become a better person. 

Then, I did some flashbacks to the time when I wanted everything to go my way. Or else, I'd be throwing a tantrum. My words couldn't be objected. I was not the person who liked to be defeated (still am, but at least I'm struggling with it). I couldn't accept rejection. I was not the sister/daughter that my parents would count on to do house chores. I was a person of no use at that time. Because I was selfish. I only cared about myself and how success (according to my definition at that time) could be reached. I'm still struggling to define what success really is, but I'm trying my best to diversify the real meaning of success now.

Through the years, I've been maturing myself through the experiences and observations. I know now, there are blessings in disguise that will be revealed with time. I understand and believe that with all my heart, insyaAllah. 

Back to the boy. 

I see my 16 years old self in that boy. Headstrong, thinks he knows what he wants but he doesn't, and he's a rebel. That's a lot to digest but yes, I was a rebel. I might still am. 

Actually, I think I still am. I'm a rebel but with manners now. I strive for what I want, and I know my goal, though not my long-term goal. Most people would be thinking of finding a job once they're done with bachelor's degree. But I can sense that I want more than that. I just don't know what. I want to be famous, and I want to inspire more people. 

But that's a whole different story, of course.

The main thing is : I can't be angry at him because I was him at one point of my life. And I don't know if I should say this, but I don't regret it. I think.