Imagine in Ten Years.
A lot can happen in ten years. December 31, 2009 marks the end of the first decade of the 21st century (although there is some debate, I have researched this and I believe that since people have a “Year Zero” so too can decades. 2009 was the 10th year of this decade, thus we begin anew.)
When we rang in the New Year on January 1, 2000, simple math will tell you that I was 14 years old. I was a freshman in high school. I had never had a boyfriend and I had certainly never “sexted” before. I didn’t even own a cell phone. I was a fan of the Internet, but the Internet at the time was just America Online. It was limited primarily to message boards, chatrooms and “You’ve Got Mail!”. My username was AngelWriter2003. There was no Twitter, no Facebook, and blogs were emo kids going “dude, life sucks.”
I didn’t like to talk about diabetes. I didn’t even have an insulin pump on January 1, 2000. I didn’t know many people with diabetes. I didn’t know that many people at all, actually. My high school campus was split that year because of construction. They were trying to make it bigger and better, but it was like, It’s high school, it’s going to suck. I was in my third year of French, and I liked English, and although my favorite things involved words, I wasn’t much of a talker. My World History teacher said “Um” a lot and I liked to keep track of how many times he said it in a 90 minute class. I tried to eat lunch with the popular kids, and one girl asked me if I was new to the school. I had been in school with her since kindergarten. After that, I ate my lunch alone most of the time.
At that point, I had only moved once, when I was 2 years old. I don’t really remember our old house but when I look at pictures sometimes I have faint, blurry memories like remembering a dream. It was a duplex that we affectionately called The Brown House. My parents had rented it out during my childhood, but eventually sold it.
This was before I was “internet famous.”
At 14, I wavered between wanting to be a teacher, a diabetes educator and a journalist. I kinda like to think I’m all three, actually. At 14, I didn’t really like boys, but now I am in love with a very nice one. At 14, I loved to travel, but had only been to a handful of states, but now I have been to a handful more and two European countries.
At 14, I was confused, and often lonely. I liked people who didn’t often like me back. I didn’t know what to say. At 24, sometimes I’m still confused. And I’m sometimes lonely. There are people that still don’t like me back, and I don’t know what to say to make things better. But at 24, I’m learning to accept that I don’t need everyone to like me back, but I am certain that they are totally missing out on the awesomeness that is Allison.
On December 31, 2019, I will be 34 years old. In ten years, I imagine that I will be married. I imagine that I will have at least one child, maybe two. I imagine that I will have more friends and will be making more money at something I love to do. I imagine that I will not be living in New York City because New York City is very far away from my parents and I know that my mother would want to be close to my children, if I have children at age 34.
In ten years, I imagine that I will still have diabetes. I will still be wearing an insulin pump. I will still be wearing a continuous glucose monitor. I imagine I will still be hosting meet-ups and still getting together with my friends with diabetes. I imagine that I will still be holding onto the hope for a cure, reading magazine articles and speaking with scientists and giving money to something that I hope isn’t a money pit.
In ten years, I imagine that I will still be learning, still be traveling, still be asking questions. I imagine that I will still have a family that I love, although how that family looks will probably expand and change as people grow old and people are born. In ten years, I imagine that I will be happy and loved. I imagine that I will have new teachers and new role models. I imagine in ten years that I will still be sharing what I know to anyone who bothers to sit still for a few minutes and read some words on a page.
I imagine that in ten years, I will still think I know more than I do. But I hope not.
In ten years, I imagine that I will think my life has changed greatly, but it will be very much the same, in all the wonderful ways.