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Disney Channel Taught Me I’d Have a Secret Identity and a Cool Wardrobe by Age 14 — I Got Anxiety and Mismatched Socks Instead

When I was a kid, Disney Channel made me think that being a teenager would be amazing. I was convinced my life would be full of these epic moments, cool clothes and maybe even a secret identity.

I thought I’d have some kind of double life, a closet that organized itself and a group of friends that were always down for some crazy adventure.

Instead, I had gym class at 8 a.m. (which has got to be a form of human torture), a flip phone that barely worked and enough awkward moments to last a lifetime (and keep me awake at night). 

Disney made it all seem exciting when the truth is being a teenager is mostly awkward and weirdly embarrassing. You’re trying to figure stuff out. You don’t always feel confident, especially because all you want to do is fit in with the “cool kids.” Most days, you’re just hoping your deodorant is working, and the outfit looks at least a little bit cool.

High school definitely didn’t have students break out into spontaneous songs and dances. We didn’t have painted lockers or these otherworldly looking phones. Our biggest concern wasn’t whether or not our crush heard us sing. We just had 5 minutes to get to class with crowded halls, locker combinations drilled into our brains, phone policies and concerns over whether or not we’re passing algebra.

Still, I loved those shows. I still do. Even though they gave me unrealistic expectations, they also gave me something to look forward to. They were fun, and they shaped part of my childhood. I’d prefer being excited over something and feeling a little let down than totally dreading an experience after knowing the truth. 

Even now, part of me still wants that spinning closet and a pop song about my life (or maybe a secret double life that’s actually interesting to hear about). I know it’s not real, but it’s a nice little escape.

So no, I didn’t turn out like a Disney Channel character. I turned out like me, always tired, more anxious than not and still holding onto a tiny piece of that dream.

Sometimes, that’s enough.

Even if I’m doing it in mismatched socks.

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