The first times...

There is always a first time. Always. Like when I decided to start this blog. Like when I decided to personalize it. When I decided to do journalism. When I decided to be the best. When I decided to take this road. When I decided to taste beer.. and decided that I hated it. When I decided to wear a skirt.. And actually liked it. When I decided to get into sports. When I decided to be a leader.
There were a lot of firsts that I experienced. Of being a daughter. Of being daddy's little girl. Of being the first child. Of being awarded my first star. Of being a woman. Of being complimented. Of being courted. Of being loved. Of being admired. Of being away from home.. Of being away from family..
There were a lot of firsts that I indulged in. My first walk in the rain. My first crush. My first trip to a beach at 2 in the morning. My first gift to a dear one. My first report. My first essay. My first birthday party.. and I decided I did not like birthday parties for some reason. My first dinner with family outside. My first conversation about the guys in my life. My first letter.
And I have learned. A lot from my firsts.
I do not know how to explain this feeling of experiencing and doing things for the first time. I feel weird in a sense and a little tentative. And then... It goes away... And becomes a part of this whole bunch of memories hidden in some neurons of my big head.. and chooses a place and gets stuck there.. until I feel the same thing or do the same thing.. again.. Then that memory frees iself and come out to hit me again.. And I do not feel the same way I did the first time. This becomes a little familiar..
There are some memories I like.. And some I don't. There have been times, when I wished for that memory never to have been born, because I know I didn't feel right when that first hit me. And I abstain myself from doing or experiencing things that had brought out that emotion..
There is this conscious effort that I take... I do not know if I am stopping some things that are natural.. Or that are meant to be experienced.. But nevertheless, I continue to avoid it.
And I learn... And I have in a sense evolved... But I don't like change. I don't like altering something.. Or maybe I do not like discovering things about me that I never knew probably existed before... Maybe, like my friend said.. That part of me was always there.. And it emerged when that memory was born.. And another facet of mine emerged when I tried to either stash away.. or rekindle it...
I am me... I am what I have been... Or maybe I have been changing...