It's fascinating really, what we can learn from looking back on our pasts.
I used to be a small girl with hair cut in a bob who chattered eagerly on the way back home from school. I'd talk about what I did in school, how my day went, what games I played in the playground... and my mum would tell me to be quiet. She would call me a chatterbox and tousle my hair playfully.
Now I sit quietly on the bus with my earphones in. I don't talk a lot, only with my closest friends. And at the dinner table, I sit quietly and shovel food into my mouth. My mum needs to prompt me to talk. I have words, I do know what I want to say. I guess I'm waiting for opportunity to come.
I used to laugh in the playground, at peace with the world and I would sing silly nursery rhymes as I one two buckle my shoe-ed around the courtyard with my skipping rope. I would play power rangers (I was always the pink one) with my friends. I usually hung out with boys even though it meant I was at risk of catching boy germs.
And now... I'm awkward. I still like playgrounds, but they're not as nice as they once were. The tarmac is harder than I remember, colder and less welcoming. Power rangers isn't cool and boys aren't really our friends - they're more like silent eyes, judging you and snickering in the distance.
I used to walk around without a care in the world. And now I'm a self-conscious person who constantly picks at her clothes, staring down at the ground, eyes lowered.