Growing Old In a Young Industry

I have become everything I talked shit on in high school.

Living in the suburbs.

Married with a family.

Living past 30.

Check. Check. Check.

Sorry teenage self, but I’ve never been happier.

As part of an industry driven by teenagers with a goal of never getting old, aging is weird.

With each year and every new grey or receding hair, an aged existence starts to contradict the stories we’re trying to tell and the lives it takes to make them real.

The teenage dream looks a little different when you’re thirty-four.

Luckily the teenage dream isn’t the only dream.

When the dream shifts, you’re old enough to realize you’ve been living it the whole time.

I’ve watched friends go from the skate shop counter to creating for and running the brands they had on their walls in high-school. Seen the party years fade into family years for some, while others keep it going non-stop on the road, or on a completely different path all their own.

My dream looks different and less angst-filled than I once imagined, but as long as I’m surrounded by others unable to stop, it will never end.

Dreams only die if you refuse to let them change.

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