I found this little piece I wrote back in April but never published. Anyway, enjoy.
My last week of university is in less than a week, and it's caused a serious wave of nostalgia to hit me. To reminisce on the transformation that has happened before my eyes that I never even noticed. One of my professors mentioned it the other day. She said that she remembered a shell of a girl that has transformed into a pearl of a woman.
I moved to London a month after I turned 18. I didn’t know my lefts from my rights, how to pay bills, how to ask for a pint in a pub, and certainly didn’t know who I was.
That’s the beauty of going to university, though. You grow; you become a new human, the one you had always dreamed of.
I used to hate my name; Madeline didn’t seem to fit me, no matter how many of my friends' mothers or fathers called me that, it never felt like it was me. I wanted to be a Madison or even just Maddie; I felt like a girl, a girl who never would feel like a true woman. Not for any particular reason, but I just couldn’t imagine myself as an adult. I had always felt like I was one; I was responsible and grown up and cool, or at least that’s what my parents told me. But as I’ve grown older, incrementally, I’ve realised that whilst I was mature, ahead of my age, with responsibilities, I had no idea that the origin of womanhood came in the feeling, not the actions associated with the word. No, I think womanhood is a multitude of attributes, some of which relate to bills and rental payments and pay stamps, but also with the way you appreciate how your hips have grown wider and the way that the more modest dress hugs your curves in a new way. My sense of style has adapted to where I wear clothing for the sake of comfort and style, not just sexual appeal like I did when I was younger and wanted to be perceived as older. I noticed my womanhood when I walk down the street with the confidence that I am happy with who I am. I notice my womanhood in my confidence in myself, in the knowledge that I am smart, and not just because of academic validation. I notice my womanhood in the way I acknowledge my beauty, not to be something to shove in other people's faces or because some man called me beautiful. I notice my womanhood in the ways I work around difficult conversations that have previously scared me, and I notice my womanhood in the comfort I have with discomfort. Growing up has taught me all that, and to think, just three short years ago, I was living in Santa Cruz, freaking out about the same next steps. I had no idea who I was going to be in three years, and here I am still wondering and worrying about the same question. However, I have found solace in the knowledge that I like the woman I have become, so I imagine I will still like the Madeline I have become in three more years, maybe even more than I do now.
I now love the name Madeline. I have opted to introduce myself with that name in recent times. I feel like I finally fit my name. I feel like I finally can do the name my parents gave me justice. I am now a Madeline. I am now a woman.
I was watching the finale of Derry Girls a few days ago and found the final quote from one of the main characters, Claire Devlin, quite poignant. It goes a bit like this:
“No matter how scary it is, we have to move on and we have to grow up because things, well, they might just change for the better. So we have to be brave. And if our dreams get broken along the way, we have to make new ones from the pieces.”
Change is good. Change is terrifying, and brilliant, and exciting! Embrace it, and welcome it.
I don't really know who these blog posts are for, but I just thought I'd share my inner monologue and hopefully, it would resonate with someone xx.
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