#GrowingUp

I spent money on things I needed, on sale: and I’m still mad at myself.

Does anyone else write text messages to loved one like a Datline correspondent is going to read them on air?

Growing up is complicated.

Celebrating Childhood Milestones: How Photography Helps Preserve Growth, Personality, and Family Connections

Songs You Only Understand After Growing Up

When I Was Five When you were five, what did you want to be when you grew up? At five?People had dreams at five? I mean, I read the prompt and the first question that crossed my mind was:“Who exactly was planning their career at five?” I had no vision of what a “suit” looked like at this age, pardon me. Because honestly, I don’t remember any dream being registered in my mind at that age. What I do remember… View On WordPress

“The One Thing That Hasn’t Changed Since the 1980s” One thing in life has remained absolutely unchanged from the 1980s to today. Not finding anything to watch on television. 📺 When I was growing up, our viewing choices were… limited. And by limited, I mean really limited. In our house the lineup looked something like this: Channel 3 – WAVE TV (NBC) Channel 32 – WLKY (ABC) Channel 11 – WHAS (CBS) Somewhere along the way Channel 11 and Channel 32… “The One Thing That Hasn’t Changed Since the 1980s”

everyone is moving somewhere. friends become memories, cities change names, photos fade into pixels. meanwhile, i’m still sitting with old versions of myself, trying to convince them that we survived. sometimes i wonder if growing up is just learning how to miss things without letting them stop you.

I am in my “Let a bitch sleep” era.

The book every boy actually needs — and every parent will be relieved exists. 💙 Growing up can feel confusing, overwhelming, and honestly kind of weird. This guide gives boys aged 9–14 real, honest, no-fluff answers about what’s happening to their bodies, why their emotions feel bigger than ever, and how to build genuine confidence along the way. “What if puberty didn’t have to be embarrassing to talk about? This book makes it easy — for boys AND the adults in their lives.” 🧠Body changes explained clearly 💚Emotional health & big feelings ⭐Self-esteem & confidence tools 🗣️Real talk, no awkwardness Ages 9 – 14Perfect gift for tweens & their families GET YOUR COPY

Money | Legacy | Self-Made on Instagram: “♥️ SAVE this, Tell me in the comments - what are you building right now? Your family wants you ho You spend the whole day chasing things that feel urgent. Deadlines. Messages. Notifications. The kind of busy that makes time disappear. Then your phone lights up. “Your family wants you home for dinner.” It’s such a simple sentence. But suddenly you remember things you forgot you missed. The sound of plates being set in the kitchen. Someone asking how your day went before you even sit down. The familiar argument about who takes the last piece of bread. Nothing extraordinary. Just the quiet kind of love that waits for you without asking for proof of success. The world outside is loud. It wants you to prove yourself every single day. But that table at home? It doesn’t care how productive you were. It doesn’t care if you’re still figuring things out. It only cares that you showed up. And sometimes, that’s enough. You’re busy building a life, chasing dreams, and trying to prove something to the world. But then a simple message arrives: “Your family wants you home for dinner.” Suddenly the noise slows down. This short story explores the quiet comfort of family dinners, the nostalgia of home, and the reminder that no matter how far you go, there’s always a place where someone saved you a seat at the table. If this made you pause for a second, reblog or share it with someone who should come home more often. Because sometimes the most important invitation isn’t a big opportunity. It’s just dinner.

‘The Lights Along The Way’ — based on the song of IV of Spades ‘Ilaw sa Daan’ | Written By Solellie. ✍🏻💡 Do you ever wonder how you were made? Not scientifically, but in the human sense—in the context of life. We are always told how children are made, how they are raised, and how they are brought into this world. But rarely do we ask how children learn to carve their own space within it. And sometimes, I wonder about something more specific. How was the eldest daughter made? I believe every child in a family holds a position—an experience; an identity shaped quietly over the years. But the eldest daughter often grows into something more than just a child. She becomes the one who learns responsibility early. The one who observes before she speaks. The one who carries things that were never meant for a child to carry. And as the eldest daughter, I often ask myself: How was I created? How was I formed? How did I become truly myself, beyond just how they raised me? If I were to answer that question, I see myself as a light. A light bulb. 🔖 Background images sourced from Pinterest. Always there yet rarely noticed. Always present yet quietly expected to keep shining. I was there—giving light to a tiring life, illuminating spaces where darkness tried to settle. Sometimes the light was appreciated. Sometimes it was simply expected. But at the end of the day, when the room grew quiet and everyone had gone to rest, I was still the one left shining through the night. Just like a light bulb on the ceiling of a silent room. The strange thing about being the one who gives light is that people rarely ask if the light itself is tired. They simply expect it to keep shining. And sometimes, it does. But sometimes the light grows lonely. There were nights when my only companions were the empty room, the moon, and the stars—sharing the same quiet darkness with me. Still, I remained. Because just like a light bulb needs wires to work, I too needed something that kept me going. A heart connected by veins that carried love and care to the people around me. So I gave what I could. Hope. Warmth. Light. 🔖 Background images sourced from Pinterest. The kind of light that keeps people awake. The kind that keeps things alive. But I was rarely the one being lit. I was the companion to everyone else’s darkness. Yet when it came to me, I was only the light bulb in the ceiling of an empty room. So slowly, I learned something. I learned how to raise myself. How to bring my own light. How to turn on when darkness appears. Not because someone taught me — but because the night demanded it. And there I remained — fixed in the ceiling of an empty room. Still shining. Still waiting. Waiting for someone to offer me the same light I have spent my life giving to the world. Or perhaps, one day, realizing that the light I have been searching for has always lived within me. 🔖 Background images sourced from Pinterest.

A photograph of a growing vine beneath a crack from a wall. An abstract photograph about positivity or motivation. Taken from Las Pinas, NCR, Philippines. Here is the link to the products available @redbubble : https://www.redbubble.com/shop/ap/181432123 Also, if you’re interested to browse for other designs, here is a link to the shop: rosemultimedia.redbubble.com

As a child, we used to count how many rozay (fasts) were left, how many days were left until Eid, and how much Eidi we would get. But as we grow up, life hits differently—especially in our 20s, with career pressure and the uncertainty of the future. Now, it feels like Ramadan passes by too quickly. We even wish for one more roza, hoping the 30 rozay complete perfectly, or that Eid arrives a day late. Because for us now, these 30 days of fasting are our true Eid. The thrill of Eid itself isn’t as strong anymore; the happiness from observing the rozay far outweighs it. We literally shift from “Eid kab hogi?” to “Eid kitni jaldi ho gayi?"—and I’m left there, slightly shocked, wondering how it all passed so quickly. Growing up changes everything. ❤️‍🩹 [ March 19, 2026 ]

I tried to bed rot today due to a back injury and the fact that it’s 75 degrees and my room is cool. I did feed myself and the dishes and laundry are done, but now I’m having a low grade sense of doom that I’ve made more work for myself tomorrow and am seriously considering taking a running leap into the heated rivalry fandom even though I have some very wary feelings about it I’m need to hold onto this feeling the next time I decide to to try this because it’s almost seven at night, I’m uncomfortably wired and debating about speed running through three baskets worth of laundry and unloading a dishwasher to quell the adrenaline inside of me

am I the problem? it has come to my attention that every time I make a really close friend, once they get into a relationship they disappear and don’t get me wrong, I get it people have lives people fall in love people get busy they have a new priority now but damn one day we’re talking every day and the next I feel like I need to book an appointment to know if you’re alive like bro, you just friendship love-bombed me for the last year and now I hear from you 2 or 3 times a month if you need something and somehow YOU have an attitude??? be serious the worst part is that this has happened to me with multiple friends, so now I’m sitting here wondering if it’s me or if people just collectively forget their friends exist once they start dating maybe I’m being dramatic maybe this is a normal part of growing up or maybe I just miss my friends idk anyways if any of my friends are reading this first of all, why are you here second of all, don’t worry, this isn’t about you (unless it is)

children It’s one of those things: you’re thrilled to see your child grow and hear them say things you never imagined. Yet, there’s a realization that as they get older, you’re losing the smaller version of them forever.

Have successfully completed that one chore that threatened my mental health for the day

Dear Little Isay, I miss you a reflective narrative essay I can’t grasp how I used to hate seeing and showing pictures of my childhood, my whole life I’ve been told I looked like a baby dolphin from my big forehead and round face. The guy I used to like once showed me pictures of when he was young, I’ve scrolled through his mom’s feed and saw them already but acted surprised, as if it were something new to my eyes. I could still see the resemblance—his eyes, still as small, softly slanted and puffy. The same quiet, gentle stare he has now was already there. In every good thing you might see in someone’s baby picture, I could see it in him. And somehow my mind goes complete tenderly maternal when I look at them. Even though people can grow cruel or go through difficult things, they were once someone’s baby—once held, once cared for. These thoughts struck me as soon as I scrolled through his mom’s feed. I couldn’t believe that kid would grow into someone like him. Although, thanks to him, I see my baby pictures differently now. Instead of the dolphin joke I never found funny but eventually chose to embrace, I see something else. She was just a kid—not a single proper thought in that big forehead. Just full of innocence, with no clue what life would bring her. The curly, thin hair I once had is something I now long for, along with the innocence of those days—when I didn’t have to face anything. Just snacks, snuggles, milk, and the little “hagikgik” giggles I used to have. Sometimes, I wish that I could freeze the picture and save it from the funny tricks of time. -ABBA, Slipping through my fingers