The Awkward Years

The beginning if Fifth grade all The way though eighth grade are the years often deemed the “Awkward Years.” There are many factors contributing to the awkwardness of these years, but the main factor is probably puberty. Yep, puberty, that three syllable word that is a horror to everyone. It causes mood swings, discomfort, and the worst of all, horrible yearbook photos. (Seriously, I am the queen of bad yearbook photos. Is it too much for me to ask to look good in at least one yearbook photo? Seriously? Even when I try it looks horrible!) I am in eighth grade and apparently should be ending the “Awkward Years” (also sometimes referred to as middle school), but I really don’t think I’ll ever escape this death grip the “Awkward Years” have on me. 

I just going to be honest and just tell you that I am a very socially awkward person. I’m not photogenic whatsoever, I can be very shy around new people, I don’t have the best sense of style. You see, I’m the kind of person who will run into their crush (who doesn’t like them back because life isn’t some rom-com) and drop all their things, spill their coffee, and fall on their face. My crush, embarrassed, quickly walks away without even helping. 

And now, a very short anecdote to describe who awkward I am. 

I was shadowing a highschool with my good friends Skylar, Autumn, and May. Knowing me, you can guess that I was pretty excited and expected the day to be a taste of Heaven that I would soon be able to indulge in. I wasn’t even in the school before my bag opened up, I was carrying it upside down, and all of my things fell out! All of the highschool students could witness my public humiliation. I’m kidding, it wasn’t that bad, but it was still embarrassing. Thank you awkward years. I mean, this will probably happen everyday of my highschool years, but it was still embarrassing. 

I’m actually beginning to doubt that the Awkward Years are in fact real. I’m beginning to think that the Awkward Years are going to last my whole life. Now thinking about it, I realize that I’ve been very awkward my entire life. From tough and strong Josie to rude fourth grade Josie, I’d always be the kid to fall on their face. 

If the Awkward Years do last my whole life, then I’m finished. How could I possibly handle falling on my face at eighty years old? What if I pass on my awkwardness to my children? What if I never get married because I trip and fall and get into a coma and forget everything on my way up aisle???

To be honest, and not exaggerate, I’m proud of my awkwardness. It’s like 80% of my personality. I mean, I have a blog where I tell all of my feelings, if that doesn’t make me an awkward individual I don’t know what does! 

If your awkward then you’ll understand that when you are awkward you’re sometimes proud of how awkward you are. I am proud to be awkward and also somewhat embarrassed, but I’m always embarrassed because I’m awkward so I’m used to it. 

I think one of the most awkward moments of my life was my first dance. Ugh, it was so incredibly awkward. So, there were these people there that we had never met because the dance was for an abundance of different schools, and I was dared to dance with someone. My friend from another school found me someone to dance with. I really wish I hadn’t taken the dare because when you are dancing with a person you never met before, the music is too loud for you to get to know each other, so the air is just thick with awkwardness. And me, being such and awkward person, had a one way conversation by trying to scream over the music. I spent the rest of the night avoiding that guy. Lesson learned. 

In the end, “smooth” just isn’t the right word to describe me and I accept that. I’ll just be my perfectly awkward self and nobody can bring me down!

Stay Gold,



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