08.06.06

late-bloomer

Posted in Uncategorized at 3:35 am by cla-uplb

Late bloomer. That’s me. It seems like everything in my life came a tad too late. Okay, perhaps not late, but just way behind most people’s standards.

When I was in elementary, I’ve always wanted to be an honor student. I had dreams of going up on the stage and accepting that much-coveted medal. I never got the chance to do it. Instead, my turn came when I was in second year high school, a tad late for my childhood dreams. I placed 8^th in the honor roll for a first-timer. It was such a surprise I didn’t immediately realize that it was my name they were calling. Someone had to nudge me on the back. When things started to sink in and I fumbled on the stage to receive the award, it was too late to pose for a proper, decent-looking photograph.

In fourth year high school, I was the last one to know that they’re sending their college applications. I crammed my UPCAT application two days before the deadline. At least it wasn’t late. But had I known about it earlier, I would have been able to decide on the better course or at least, taken the time to consider applying in other schools. Even my UPCAT test permit came late. Two days before the scheduled exam, everyone was talking about seating arrangements and testing centers. They had their test permits ready. I was still wondering where in the world the postman delivered mine. I got it the next day, not late, but just in time. Nevertheless, had it arrived earlier, I would have been able to review properly sans the worry that I can’t take the exam because I don’t have my test permit.

The best job offers came too late. I was already accepting calls and working on graveyard shifts when one of my dream institutions called and asked for an interview. I had to turn them down because I already had a job, which I later on ditched because another late offer came. This time, I didn’t think twice about giving the late offer a chance. Still, had they come earlier, I would have been saved from the trouble of ditching a job, even the whole shebang of dressing up in corporate attire and leaving my place at such ungodly hours.

I began to have a social life a little later compared to my contemporaries. I learned to drink beer during my first year as a teacher. And it was because my students were giving me a farewell party. I began to hangout in bars and Starbucks and Seattle’s Best when I began earning my salary. I had my first camera phone when I received my first ever 13^th month pay. Always a wallflower and a geek back in high school and college, I didn’t know that I can be a social butterfly, that I can mingle and sit back and drink coffee while ogling out all the preppy, nice-looking guys in the bar. My first date (if you can even call it a date, probably more of a chill-out night) was during my first Christmas as a professional.

I’ve always known myself as the awkward girl-next-door, one of the boys with my cropped haircut and loud laughter. It wasn’t until I learned how to dress up and wear dangling earrings and had revolutionized my hairstyle into wavy, sexy curls(and all these took place when I started working) did I realize that I can be the sophisticated socialite I’ve always dreamt of becoming in my fantasies. It must have been because it was only during this time that I had the money to pamper myself. But the point still remains, the money and the metamorphosis from awkward, geeky girl to sophisticated socialite came a tad too late. While my contemporaries have moved on to being experts in the game, trying out the next level, I am but a novice.

Even my love life seems to be following this pattern. My first ever attraction to the opposite sex was in third year high school. At this time, many of the girls in our school had moved on from simple flirtation and crush to being a couple.  I was just learning the ropes of how it is to have a crush. At that time, all I could manage to do was watch him from afar and read about his achievements from friends and classmates. This time though, I’ve learned the art of subtlety, thanks to forwarded messages in my cellphone and YM messages and Friendster. There’s always a good excuse to drop by and say hi.

Affairs of the heart, in my case, are progressing at a snail’s pace, though. While most of my batchmates and friends have an endless string of boyfriends, fiancées or are even married with a couple of kids, I’m still here, with no boyfriend to claim, whether an ex or a soon-to-be-boyfriend. It has become a sort of joke with my friends that probably, just like with almost everything in my life, my love life is a late-bloomer too. So perhaps, by the time my friends have grandkids, I’ll be having my first boyfriend. Heheheh…

The ironic thing is, despite all these, I’m not even the always-late type of person. I was never late in my entire high school and college classes. I cram but I try to submit my outputs on time. I try to be punctual during meetings. I try not to be late.

I’ve always been accused by my parents and friends for being too impatient. My mom would always tell me that everything has its own season. I don’t have to rush. The perfect offer will come in its own good time. I just need to wait. Having my first boyfriend at the age of 30 isn’t too late (?!). If that isn’t late, then what is? My friend accused me of blurting the words too soon thus the reason for that unexpected crash to reality. Now, I’m in danger of blurting the same words again prematurely, because I’m not patient enough to wait for the perfect time to come. When is the perfect time then?

Believe me, I wouldn’t mind waiting. But I definitely do not want to be at the waiting line for the rest of my life. Who knows I may not live long enough to enjoy that which came too late. Patience pays off, they say. They’re right, the longer you wait for that thing you so desperately want to have, the more lasting the taste of triumph is when you finally achieve it.

I don’t have any reason to complain. Despite being late, all those things came, except for the boyfriend. I became a novice sophisticated socialite, an honor student, an instructor in my dream school. I bloomed, albeit late. Yes, there is a wisdom to my mom’s words. But sometimes, I just can’t help but ask, “Can’t you hurry it up a bit?”

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