I was sitting down today, reminiscing about old memories, when I suddenly realised that I was quite a mischievous, wicked little human being.

When I was much younger, I could do things that would leave my elders very upset. I was rude. I was wicked to my fellow classmates. And by wicked, I don't mean the kind of wickedness that makes everyone look at a child and conclude that she is simply a terrible human being. No. Mine was the kind that, somehow, always had a reason behind it. It was justified, at least in my little head. And despite all that, I still had a lot of friends who genuinely loved me, I could say.

Now, I'm sitting here wondering how I grew up to become someone who lets people walk all over her, take her for granted, and gets away with doing absolutely nothing about it.

Seriously, how?

How did that little girl have the audacity to do some of the things she did? Where did those crazy ideas come from? I was very mischievous. Very, wicked and a little troublesome. Some of the things I thought about were not the kind of things you'd expect to cross a little child's mind.

How did I come up with such wicked thoughts? 😹

And now, look at me. All grown up, being so nice that I sometimes allow people to walk all over me and take me for granted.

Wow.

Life. 😹