About Nostalgia and the Road Not Taken

For some reason, there have been so many opportunities lately for me to be nostalgic. Yesterday, I had a sudden urge to decorate my new bedroom with a wall of photos, and so I began looking through old pictures. Well, they were actually pretty recent, but for some reason, it made me really, really sad, looking at all the moments I used to have. And I realized that I really didn't know, at the time, how blessed I was. I didn't know, then, that eventually the moment would end and reality would return to me. The pictures reminded me of how much I missed being young and free, and not having to worry about what people thought of me or what I was going to do when I grew up.

I'm growing up too fast.

And it made me sad to realize that I didn't know it until now. I wish I could go back to those moments and relive them; look my old self in the eye and say, "Love your life, Sarah. You are so privileged to be young."

I realize that I'm not "old". And yet, there's a part of me that feels that way, because I'm slowly becoming an adult. I'm slowly become "not a kid". And I miss that innocence, the laughter and effortless way of life. I miss not having to worry about how each choice I make is going to affect the rest of my life. I've lived every day without properly realizing how precious they were. And now that I do realize it, it makes me sad to think that I can't go back and relive the moments again.

A read a book a few days ago that asked me one important question: "What will you do with your wild and precious life?" It was a good book, about a girl that took the road less traveled after spending her entire high school career doing exactly the opposite.

It made me think: What am I going to do with my wild and precious life?

But now that I've written that down, I realize something. I'm  not going to do anything with my wild an precious life. Because it isn't mine to live.

I've always known that God was in control of my life. And yet, looking into the unknown future--and the beautiful past--I still feel really sad. I don't exactly know why. Maybe it's a happy sort of sadness, twinged with excitement but also fear. But I mean, if God's given me a past to be happy and nostalgic about, I think I can trust Him to give me a future that will glorify Him.

I only have two years left of my wild and precious life here in Cambodia. And then, it will continue, somewhere else in the world.

I've taken the road less traveled my entire life. I'm not exactly normal. 

And although that's not always an easy reality, it's something that is a huge blessing. I don't know what the other road looks like, but I like to think that I'm exactly where God wants me to be.

As for the nostalgia? It's not gone away just yet. After looking through those pictures yesterday, I closed my laptop and stared into space for a little while. I also started crying, and then realized that there was something really important that I had to do. I got up, walked downstairs to my parents' bedroom, and, with weepy eyes, told them I loved them more than anything else in the world.

Other people would have thought I was crazy. But, being the loving, incredible people that they are, they knew that it was just me, going through another one of my phases. We had one of those family moments, where we all confess our love to one another and do a whole lot of hugging.

And then I headed back upstairs to do some homework. Because, after all, continuing my wild and precious life has to start with something. And it might as well be that.

Why I Write

I realize that I probably don't have anybody reading this blog. 

But yesterday, in English class, as we were talking about the life of Wilfred Owen, the famous World War I poet, our English teacher told us something.

"Before Owen met a writer at a hospital in France, he didn't write about the war. He thought that poems were supposed to be happy, beautiful things, not sad, depressing pieces of writing. But when he met this other writer, he was encouraged to write about his trials and hardships. Not because he thought he would be famous; because he realized after a while that it was helping him to put things into perspective."

And I realized that that's pretty much my philosophy on this blog. I don't write often, but that also means that when I do, it's something that I think the world should know--or, at least something that my future self should look back on and remember. I realized that this blog is so much more than for my being able to let out my feelings about life as a TCK--it's about being able to put things into perspective, so that there's something there for me to read back on later.

I'm always going to be different. 

I realized that a few months ago, as I was in Switzerland, struggling with my identity and culture shock. It was a challenging thing to accept, but I realized that it's inevitable. And, since it is, it should also become something that I embrace as a person. My differences aren't always going to be a bad thing, even if it feels like they will  be. Someday, the things that I've experienced are going to be blessing to somebody else. I'll be able to look another TCK in the eye and say, "I know exactly how you feel", and be able to talk about it, and be different with somebody else.

And until then, I find comfort in being able to write all my experiences down "on paper". Not all TCKs do this, but I feel like I should. Someday, I'll have a different blog, one that tells my friends and family that are scattered across the world how I'm doing in the places I'm going and the new things I'm experiencing. But for now, this blog is just for me. It's something that I'm writing to others out there who are experiencing the same things. And I'm writing it to my future self, as an encouragement, that these experiences, even though they're hard, are blessings in disguise. I know that I'm going to look back at this blog and smile, and see how God has carried me through everything.

Because, like with Wilfred Owen, writing isn't just for the easy stuff. And it isn't just for the relatable stuff. Sometimes it's just something that's just for you, to enjoy. And that's why I write.