From boy to woman

Where did he go?!?!? The boy I use to be? No this is not a pre-op, hormone treatment situation. This is me losing site of me! A part of me that I clung to as a child and through those horrid awkward teenage years that are oh so dreadful...you know the ones. Arms that seem to lash out uncontrollably like that of a baby, hair that always seems to stick up, out, here, there and everywhere. Legs that take strides too small for a big world and knees that seem to be plastered with a sign that says, "bruise here". I was the girl that was every boy's best friend. I could out spit you, out run you and when rare childhood moments of privacy allowed, out cuss you. I could catch the quickest bugs, find the best hiding spots and belch my ABC's like no other. I could ride my bike..."look! no hands!", down the steepest hills with not a hint of fear upon my face. I could dig the best holes, build the most spectacular forts and shoot anything my bb gun came in contact with. I could do anything you could do only better. I never complained about the dirt under my barely there finger nails or the shooting pain down my legs from running to every destination in a four block radius. I was the King.
So where did he go? The boy in me who never cried and never backed down from a good game of knuckles? I guess he is stored away upon a shelf like the books you've read and only glance at occasionally with the passing thought,"it(he) was a good book, I loved that book." and walk away. Just a very clear memory that is remembered with a fondness not fond enough to attempt again, possibly in fear of it never being as good as it once was. Is it worth chancing?
Now I am a grown women who worries how my breasts fill out my sweater and if the glossy shade of my lip gloss is in season.Funny how things change. Where I once took pride in my dirt ridden fingernails, I now cringe at the sight of anything, even a smudge, tainting my ruby red nails. And bugs? Don't get me started. I would rather run d
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w
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naked then glimpse the hairy little legs of any peculiar insect stricken with the ulterior motive of sending me into a somewhat entertaining panic.
This little boy is lost. He is gone. I only just noticed this today as I was hammering nails and painting walls. It was a grievous job and it was not done by that little boy! It was done by me...who loves all things that glitter, sparkle and shine.

So if we could all take a moment to say a disquieting good-bye to our lost little boys........trade in our G.I. Joes for our Mary Jane pumps and tune in to Gossip Girl.....some things were just not meant to be.