Essays: Growing up 31 Articles

by Mary Franz

Growing upagain

It's funny how once we pass certain stages in our lives, we either with regret or relief are quite certain that the stage has indeed passed. As a parent of a school-aged child, I realize now that we do relive some

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by Danya Brooke

My brother is a sissy. I thought this to myself as I watched him tear across the backyard with the graceless trot of a hippopotamus. He was going inside to change his shorts - for the second time - because he'd gotten a little

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by Josh Liccardi

Out of nowhere, yet strangely from everywhere, you have risen above it all and are finally ready to face your greatest fears. The next installment in your life will prove to be very interesting just like all of the previous ones,

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by JET Carney

Realizations

CHICAGO

HOG Butcher for the World,
Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat,
Player with Railroads and the Nation's Freight Handler;
Stormy, husky, brawling,
City of the Big Shoulders:

They tell me you are wicked and I believe them,

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by 106 Elm

Shut the Bathroom Light Off

It's midnight and I'm laying in bed on my side with the blankets pulled up to my nose. My eyes are open and I'm watching the headlights from the passing cars on Elm Street search my room from one wall

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by Elaine Sihera

This early adult teenage years are a period of self-discovery. They are marked particularly for men by a set dream (like being a millionaire, or travelling the world), one which will dominate the rest of their life and be used

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by oceangi

Ignorance is Fearless
Children do not seem to be afraid of anything. They can climb on top of the refrigerator and not have a second thought about jumping off to see if they can fly. This may be due to a lack of knowledge or,

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by Gina Lawton

Weekday at Bernie's

Our van freaked out the other day. I was almost home, and suddenly it sounded like I was dragging the entire Tour de France competitive field under my van. Seriously, it was like multiple chains were

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by Nancy Browne

Some memories you never forget.

The first time my brother and I saw this woman was probably a week or so after she moved in, (my younger sister was not with us for reasons I don't remember) but we were headed over to some friends

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by Shannon Stanton

I remember the day I turned eight years old. It was not a particularly special day, and I don't remember feeling any different than I did when I was seven; the entire day doesn't even come to mind. It is one moment that I can

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by Vicki Phipps

I've come to believe at the age of fifty-two, that the growing up process takes a very long time to do. As a child, I believed that a grown up human being would be anyone taller than I, so by the time I turned eighteen, I seemed

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by Mandy Randall

Love Every Way You Can and Wear A Helmet

Boston Clam Chowder is a culinary work of art. As a young employee at a tiny seafood restaurant I had paid my dues, working my way up from dishwasher to prep-cook, where I had finally

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by Crystal Simoneau

My Life

When I was fifteen years old, I was rebellious, out of control and most of all, unsupervised. I did drugs, partied and was sexually promiscuous. I was on a path of destruction and didn't even realize it. My parents weren't

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by Leroy Kottke

I am an emotionally stunted person. I have no idea how to relate to others on an emotional level. This is a life-long situation and it stems from the family situation in which I was born and raised. I feel that God puts us here

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by Kayla Blankenship

There are defining moments in one's life where the realization that maturity is inevitable stares you straight in the face. This may happen many times in your life, for I am quickly learning that as life goes on there are areas

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by Thriller

Alright. I did this in kindergarten too. I mean, I wrote about myself. Only not with so much of self obsession. (Point to reader, 1: the writer hates being a grown up because of the self obsession that tags along with growing

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by Sara Celano

Growing up is something that has terrified me ever since I was a little girl. I never wanted to grow up, I was convinced that when you grew up then all the fun stopped. I was perfectly content playing with my linkin logs and

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by Carrie Neal Walden

Garage Door Ride

"Come on," I said. "It'll be fun."

He looked at me skeptically, but I could tell he was also curious. He always wanted to be wherever I was, and do whatever I was doing. I was tired of him tagging along, the five-year-old

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