I miss when I was seven years old, and I hadn’t learned any of life’s really hard lessons yet.
When I was that age, I only knew what little information about the world that I was told (or assumed). I knew there had to be a God, because why else would all of these millions of people go to church every week? I knew I’d grow up and have a perfect body and meet the perfect man and it would be love at first sight, because that’s what happened in all Disney movies. I had heard a little bit about the environment and pollution, but that could all be easily fixed if people just recycled and planted trees, right? And I certainly knew that if I really wanted to, and if I worked super hard, I could be Prime Minister some day, because any Canadian is eligible to be Prime Minister. And besides, my parents told me I could be anything I wanted to be.
When you’re young, life is black and white. There is an imperial right or wrong. You know that all you have to do is make the correct choices, and you’re sooo sure that when those choices come you’ll be ready and waiting for them.
Little does anyone suspect that along with “black” and “white” there’s a whole lot of grey. The hard part isn’t selecting the “right” choice, but deciding what on earth the “right” choice is in first place. You realize that life is like one big multiple choice quiz where none of the answers are really correct, so you can only pick what you think is “least incorrect.”
What I know now is that scientists predict that in the next century over half of the species on Earth will have become extinct. I know that if the designing of cities doesn’t get seriously smarter soon, the pollution caused by cars going between work and home, and the amount of traffic on city roads and highways, and the level of taxation is going to get really crazy. I know that the man who I want to be attracted to me is being exposed to the lipo-suctioned, implanted, photo-shopped, perfect women in the media and that it is physically impossible for me (or any real woman) to ever look like that. I know that deciding who to vote for in any most elections is difficult simply because there are no “good” candidates (pick the “least incorrect”). I know that most of the homeless people downtown are mentally insane, and incapable of supporting themselves, and there’s not a damn thing I can think to do to help them. I know that half the time people become special because they’re famous, not famous because they’re special. I know that in a few hundred years no one will remember my name.
And I know that I’ll never be Prime Minister, because while all Canadians are technically eligible, only the rich white men are taken seriously.
When you’re young, life is simplified and you think you can do anything. Then you grow up and realize that nothing in life makes sense, and you can’t think to do a damn thing.