You say I turned out fine. I think I’m still turning out.” Rachelle Tacadena

You say I turned out fine. I think I’m still turning out SELF-GROWTH

Rachelle Tacadena Rachelle Tacadena

“Can you wait a sec? Let me catch my breath. I can’t remember how I got here.” I don’t think I ever really ‘came of age’. I’m entering my twenties this year (just a mere twenty years too soon), and I am sure as heck still growing up and figuring out who I am and who I will be. I know I’ve got to grow up some time, but I don’t think I’m ready yet. I guess right now, I’m just a weird, anxious and awkward soul. A Dreamer (according to that Adobe Creative Types Test) a.k.a one who overthinks, daydreams and is very emotional (so...nice to meet you too!). I latch onto occasional cliché coming-of-age movies for somereason and Netflix shows about growing up (like Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012), Glee (2009-2015), Sex Education (2019) on Netflix and even Big Mouth (2017-2019) because I find myself in them (minus Big Mouth. I just like John Mulaney and Nick Kroll content among other things). And don’t even get me started on my love of YouTube and how that has changed over the years. Here I am shouting “ME” at these things like Shane Dawson because these things are, in fact, me. Alongside YouTube changing significantly from its wholesome 2014 era, one thing that I have realised is that it has taken me since high school to recognise that how my mind is is a genuine and worthy problem. For as long as I can remember I have been a shy kid. Since mid-high school, I brushed off seemingly new traits that have now snowballed; hesitation/ fear in approaching people and keeping a conversation, easily distracted, disliking eye contact, fidgeting, disappearing into my own world. “Nah, I’ll just get through it on my own like always”, I would tell myself as I waded through. Even now, I’m still who I’ve always been; inside my head a lot, trying to escape the feeling that the world has passed me by. I’m surviving when I should be thriving. A quote from an article I read in high school went along the lines of, ‘I have a foot in two campsites but a tent in none.’ Link that with dodie’s song ‘6/10’ (“I know that you don’t want me here”) and there’s my life in a nutshell; never being enough, masking everything, making new friends but always floating around groups, always aware of the fact that everyone is more interesting than me and is closer friends with each other. I related to that song about anxiety before I even knew what anxiety was. How do I always end up being the odd one out on an even table? I was (and still am, honestly) at a point where I truly believed that I didn’t deserve any of my roles because everyone else was more worthy and skilled. That I didn’t deserve any of the people I have had the honour of calling my friends. I couldn’t legitimise it as more than just being shy or sad because it could be worse. I always think that I might actually be okay, and then I come in and prove myself wrong every single time (love a circle of life).

I remember the day I changed friendship groups in high school (around year 8 or 9), making new ones before becoming closer with both groups. I remember the moment just before asking if I could sit with them. Walking out of the bathrooms, a deep feeling in my chest and the back of my mind that was waiting to be released. I was never fully happy sitting with the first group even though they were my first and closest friends. On the verge of tears at the exit of the bathrooms (classic emotional me), I shakily asked if I could sit with them. And lo and behold, they were the kindest people ever taking me into their arms. A seemingly minor story, but prominent to me nonetheless; I didn’t know my mental health was to blame for my sadness and now, years later, I’ve realised this was the first piece that proved mysuspicions.

With a lot of things in my life, I always have to take a good step away from things to catch my breath and re-align. Cue “Turtles All the Way Down” spirals, a name I can finally put to a feeling that has made itself known to me. I’ve been so good, but it’s still getting harder. Why am I feeling empty?

I could start going on about how I escape these spirals, but frankly I have a word limit that I‘m sure I’ve already passed. There are a few people/things that I greatly appreciate that have come into my life at the most perfect times. My high school year advisor, my favourite artists AJR and George Ezra, Dear Evan Hansen (albeit through a YouTube recording, don’t @ me pls) and pins for my denim jacket (truly me in a nutshell). AJR and Dear Evan Hansen have brought me so much clarity on my experiences, exposing the realities of growing up and putting it in a way that is just so real, universal and emotional as heck. Shoutout to everyone with niche interests too, especially those who recognise my many references throughout this which may seem odd or out of place (Cue Shane Dawson “ME!”). Even AJR’s 2019 album “Neotheater” was conceptualised as a “place in our minds we go to, to escape the pressures of growing up”.

So now, with parts of me finally in words, I can stop pretending I’m something better than the mess I am and stop running away from what’s true: Me. (I mean, ya girl is tired and frankly isn’t as fit). Starting with the decision to actually step into the sun and reach out for help, something that high school me would’ve never been able to do. I’m following the click in my ear finding where I should be; I don’t know where I’m going, but I know I’m going somewhere because all I see is sky for forever.

I know I will be okay again sometime and mean it. And so, I want to grow to a point where I can confidently say and believe one of my new lines to live by from AJR (who else did you expect from me?). Dear all the people in my life who have made me more me than I could have ever dreamed.

“I hope I made you smile. That’s all I ever wanted.”