These days I’m often feeling like simultaneously a girl on the verge of womanhood and a woman of “a certain age” — if that makes any sense.

It’s a weird feeling to be moving into womanhood without having a girlhood, with all the little things one picks up along the way. To give a trite example: When my hair gets long enough, I’ll need someone to help me learn how to how to braid my hair, since I have no clue how to do it.

OTOH, I didn’t (directly*) grow up with some of more toxic parts of girlhood. And I’m really thankful my second puberty comes at a point in my life where I’ve got enough decades to be far more able to handle the inherent emotional rollercoaster.