06/06/2026
๐ ๐ด๐ฟ๐ฒ๐ ๐๐ฝ, ๐ฏ๐๐ ๐๐ต๐ฒ ๐๐๐ฎ๐๐ฒ๐ฑ
But does growing up just change your body? Or also your soul?
Maybe I could just stay the same forever.
As a child, I always thought I was different. I wanted to be everything at once. I loved guessing what color the caterpillar would turn into after metamorphosis, as if I already trusted change. I loved practicing how to read the analog clock perfectly, matching every moving hand to the corresponding minute. I loved talking to animals, mimicking their sounds, and imagining I was part of their world, like I understood them most.
I did things best when I was alone. I loved what I had. I loved my own world. I grew up not seeking attention, not wanting to be perceived. Other kids spent their afternoons outside, laughter spilling into the air until it dissolved into exhaustion. While meโฆ I was there, inside my own quiet universe. Sleeping on the sofa while sunlight slipped through the curtains and landed on my face like it knew I belonged in stillness, and it was an iridescent feeling.
I was always labeled as behaved. But more than that, I was distant. Socializing always drained something out of me I didnโt know how to name back then. I learned early that solitude wasnโt emptiness, but a friend.
While other kids played with peers, I played with myself. I built worlds in my head, gave meaning to things others overlooked, and lived in details most people walked past. I knew what I wanted. I knew myself better than anyone ever tried to.
And somewhere between then and now, I grew up. Gradually, piece by piece: in responsibilities, in learning how to be seen when I never wanted to be perceived.
And still, even when I try to act like Iโm grown up, there are moments when the mask slips.
When the independent โtough girlโ act fades, I realize Iโm still that same little girlโthat I want to be that little girl againโsitting alone in my room, playing on my own, wondering quietly about things only I would understand. I remind myself not to be rude to me. That little girl is still here, living inside everything Iโve become.
Iโm still her. I still see everything the same way. I still feel everything the same way. I still cry alone the same way I did when I was younger. Deeply, honestly, but secretly where no one could know.
So I try to live in a way that doesnโt abandon her. To choose softness even when the world teaches hardness. To keep going because continuing means living the dream the little me once had. To do things not just for who I am now, but for who I was then.
Growing up changed many things: my body, but never my soul. She stayed. I am still me. I still carry pieces of what I once was.
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โ๏ธ | Elah Marian Pendon
๐๏ธ | Mary Emily Sean Roxas
