Ladders in tights, ink stained bags, tears over the future. For me, the cracks in the apparent newness of September life are beginning to show. I feel stupid to play some innocence is bliss card, and masking myself in delusions of change is neither sensible, or even half useful. Summer is always signaled as some sort of break, the type of therapy the NHS doesn’t offer, but instead I’ve entered a new academic year some how more internally wound up then when I left it. The causation of which I care not to mention, for I know, most of you probably care not to listen, but the result is one I have a high distaste for. One of the things that might have possibly got me watery eyed in the common room this week is the fact that in a months time, I’ve got to decide how I want to spend my future earning money.

And as much as I’d like to apologize for the in convenience I gather I’m probably causing to teachers and fellow members of my form who have to hear my whines of various protests of not knowing, I’m actually not sorry in the slightest. Why at 17 should I know? It’s not logical.

Don’t get me wrong, because I know what I would like  in life. I’d like to some how change the world, in a little way. I’d like to help out charities, and I’d like to preach the message of the gospel. I’d like to work with disadvantaged children is war torn countries. And I’d like to write articles on my opinion, and have them published. I’d like to educate others on diversity and the importance of equality. I’d like to continue being a student ambassador for the Holocaust Educational Trust.  I’d like to get married, have children, and live in a house with a red front door, I’d like to read the entire bible and I’d like to teach others that its okay to be different. I’d like to learn how to cook, and how to bake, and I’d like to grow my own vegetables. I’d like to compile huge lists, and I’d like to scrapbook everything that matters to me. I’d like to learn how to be more comfortable with who I am, and i’d to get better at listening to God.  I’d like to one day be overall leader of a venture, and I know at some point I’d like to be a youth worker in a church. I’d like to be able to live with enough income to be able to live without complete restrictions, and I’d like to be able to afford to buy my friends and family gifts, just because I knew they’d love something. I’d like to be able to laugh, and to love, and to explore. I’d like to visit New York City, and Paris, And Italy. I’d like to be an MP. And I’d like to road trip across America. And, I’d like to discover more about my mother.

But picking what to spend the next 3 years of my life studying about? Its not that I’m clueless, because I’ve been up till gone 2AM on the dreaded UCAS website searching and searching. Its just that, coiled up inside me is the notion that I’m not ready to decide just yet. I’m not ready to reel in my naivety, or to stop dreaming of having it all. I’m not available for surrendering for the ordinary. And I am in no means capable of stopping my mind from wandering about everything, about being fascinated by anything. I can’t just settle. This is not the time to be closing my eyes, and pointing to a star, hoping for the best. Its the time to get serious, to take September with both hands and to start running towards my future career path. But I can’t. Cause I’m not going to allow myself to be pressured into any half hearted decisions. I do what I want to do, and I do it with passion, but I’m not allowing for regrets years down the line.

I’ll decide when I’m good and ready to, when I know what I want. Cause despite the red lipstick, big words and Costa trips, I’m still only 17. And in the eyes of the law, that’s still a child. I don’t want to grow up just yet, despite what September is bringing