I never asked this question before but it is something that I rarely think about.
Who is coming of age?

Old people? Young people? Teens? Adults? Young Adults?

I don’t know, but I do know that we are all growing up, everyday of our lives is composed of little moments that makes us grow up, and that way come of age, whatever age it may be.

I come of age every week, and I feel like a different person every day. It is a very simple and weird thing.

It happens to everyone but no one knows how or when it will end.
One of the two aspects involved in coming of age are identity and freedom.
They both influence our decisions and our personalities. Identity deals with how we see ourselves in the mirror and freedom relates to how much of the mirror we can see.

It’s not so simple, but it’s what I can offer.

I have been dealing with an identity crisis for almost 6 years, something which started when I left home. I have been looking for my next home for a while, I have found some, but none lasted long enough. It’s hard being different and making mistakes when people always expect you to be perfect. I understand that whenever apologies need to be made you should never be the topic of conversation, but what you did is. How am I suppose to distinguish my mistakes from myself? If my past is irrelevant then what am I to do when my past self hurt someone I love?

Love is mutable, something that goes through lots and lots of things before it can fully find its place. I can’t apologize for my past self, and I won’t attempt to. I can feel bad and apologize for his actions, but the me of the present can’t change anything about the me of the past.
Humans don’t usually consider the future when dealing with apologies. They can’t see past someone else’s transgressions, and they should. I can’t even begin to describe the negative effects of hurting someone when you’re the one who hurt. If my remorse is not apparent that is none of your business. My feelings don’t have faces, you don’t need to see them. I won’t force you to feel them but you can empathize with me.

My mistakes don’t define me, who I hurt doesn’t define me. My future me shouldn’t be restricted from his freedom to have a chance because the me of the present can’t change what past me has done.
And if my apologies don’t feel sincere it doesn’t matter. I am the judge of my words.

I miss having a home, or any resemblance of a caring and comforting community of people that used to love and support me. Now they don’t and I’m okay with that. Some of my friends from back then still like me.

And to whoever has struggled with identity and coming of age, I feel you. I don’t want this to turn into something which is not. I need you to know that your freedom to be whoever you want to be will never be restricted and should never be restricted by those who think they take care of you.

I’m sorry that you felt this pain, this is not an apology, this is not an essay, this is not an article about how we all can relate to one thing.

This is a place where you can feel your true self and to say the words you truly want to say.

The Dingoes That Park Their Brains with their Gum by Jean-Michel Basquiat