Published by: Zenie Lynn Caguing
Date Published: October 13, 2025
Time Published: 3:40 pm
𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗚𝗢𝗥𝗬: Prose
𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗘: The inner struggle and fear of adulthood and the quiet longing to be your younger self again.
There comes a moment in life when the mirror feels unfamiliar—when the reflection staring back at you no longer matches the memory of who you once were. When it starts to feel like something is missing, like a part of you has been misplaced along the way.
It's honestly a strange kind of grief, one that I never thought I'd think of before—mourning. Not the death of someone else, but the older version of myself that I can no longer return to—the little one who was brighter, untouched by fear, and who had her whole future neatly ahead of her.
She was perfect in ways I didn't recognize... not until she was gone.
Life felt so simple back then. I would find myself truly happy by just running barefoot through the streets, eating ice cream that slowly melted on to my fingers, laughing until my stomach hurt, not even once caring about what others would think. Back then, my biggest fears were bruised knees or what's beyond the dark corners of my room. But now the monsters I fear the most aren't hiding under the bed—they live inside me. They whisper doubts left and right without silence, reminding me that I'll never be enough.
Oh, how I miss when the world felt like hugging a soft cloud—safe, gentle, forgiving.
I would give everything to be that same little one who was filled with perfection that she didn't know she holds. A version of me from the past that I can never touch again, someone who was whole, unbroken, and never once questioned if she was worthy of her own reflection.
I thought growing up meant gaining wisdom, becoming smarter, learning from mistakes that came my way. But the truth feels heavier now when it seems like the older I get, the more I stumble with every blow of the wind—the more clumsy, the more annoying, the more foolish I have become.
They said adulthood was supposed to be a new chapter, a new door opening—a place where everything would finally make sense. But why, when it comes to me does it feels like standing on the edge of a never ending black hole? And I think what unsettles me the most about this is that there's no map, no guide, no way of of knowing what'll be there for me on the other side—whether it'll be someone I recognize or someone I have to pretend to be to survive.
I thought by now I would have known who I am and who I want to become. I thought adulthood meant finding answers, not getting more unanswered questions that pile up until I can no longer see past them.
I hate how the older I get, the more lost I feel, going back in fourth between who I was and who I should become, but never once daring to look at the future—too afraid of what it might bring.
And I don't know which thought is scarier—that I'll never be the little girl who was always happy again, or that I may never truly become anyone beyond her at all.
#Prose
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