It’s okay, it happens,Sometimes, you do misunderstand us.

It’s okay, it happens,
Sometimes, you do misunderstand us.
Not all times we said our head was aching,
was it a lie.
Not all times we said we didn’t want to do something,
was it an excuse.
It’s okay, it happens,
Sometimes, you do misunderstand us.

When we said we weren’t hungry,
it really was the truth.
Not all times we said we forgot to study for a test,
was it a casual attitude.
Not all times we said we were bored,
was it because we were ‘kids’.
It’s okay, it happens,
Sometimes, you do misunderstand us.

When we said we were stressed,
when we had problems,
when we were having a hard time,
we didn’t expect a “you’re only 14”.
We have friend drama,
enemy drama,
boy drama,
girl drama,
teacher drama,
so not all times we may have slammed the door,
raised our voice, whined, made faces,
was it disrespect, was it “this generation”.
It’s okay, it happens,
Sometimes, you do misunderstand us.

Labels are practically forced upon us,
‘The favourite student’
‘The best friend’
‘The sacrificing child’

Teenage years are supposed to be the golden years-
the college wants to know how many marks we got,

the admissions officer wants to know how many NGOs we helped,
the coach wants to know how many laps we ran,
the teacher wants to know how many questions we finished,
applications want to know what do we want to do for the rest of our lives,
internship offices want to know if we have any job experience.
Not all times we said “I hate my life”,
did we mean to sound ungrateful for what we have,
we didn’t need the “try earning this” speech.
It’s okay, it happens,
Sometimes, you do misunderstand us.

Our bodies are on display 24/7,
people judge what we wear,
the way we walk, talk,
the way we eat,
being insecure about your own body feels terrible,
and sometimes it seems that the entire world has notes for us,
suggestions,
“only looking out for us”.
So, not all times we said, “I don’t want to go there”,
“I don’t like this place”,
“I don’t want to wear this”,
were we throwing tantrums.
It’s okay, it happens,
Sometimes, you do misunderstand us.

Not all times can we be happy,
not all times can we on-board with your spontaneous plans,
not all our priorities are the same,
not all times do we need motivational speeches,
not all times ‘be positive’ works.
Maybe all we needed,
was an ear who could listen,
a mouth which can sympathize,
a shoulder to cry on.
It’s okay, it happens,
Sometimes, you do misunderstand us.

You can make mistakes,
not all times are you right.
Maybe we were right.
Maybe you were wrong.
Maybe we did point it,
But not to offend you or to put you down,
It didn’t have to end in a slap.
Maybe we could have talked.
It’s okay, it happens,
Sometimes, you do misunderstand us.

Sometimes we sneak out of the house,
Sometimes we have secret instagram accounts,
Sometimes we stay up later than you know,
Sometimes we watch more movies than you want,
Sometimes we eat more than you like,
Sometimes we study less than we normally would.
Sometimes we break,
Sometimes we smile.
Sometimes we pass,
Sometimes we fail.
It’s our life, our beautiful mess,
That we have to deal with everyday.

It’s not ‘attention seeking’,
It’s not ‘acting out’,
It’s not ‘a phase’.
It’s okay, it happens,
Sometimes, you do misunderstand us.

Some of our ideas may seem absurd to you,
Some of your discussions we don’t understand.
We don’t have to fight.
We don’t have to put blame.
Not all times we need to be silenced.
It’s okay, it happens,
Sometimes, you do misunderstand us.

Many days, we’re overcome with peer pressure.
They have watches and phones and shoes.
Not that we don’t,
we do, but
we’re humans,
We want more. And perhaps,
Some of us don’t ask very often
and perhaps,
Some of us do.
Not all times we need to earn it,
Not all times we need to prove ourselves.
Maybe, some of us hesitate in asking.
We know the value of money,
We know what is worth spending on.
And sometimes, we don’t.
We buy some things that we stop using after a while.
Not all times do we need a reminder of our mistakes.
It’s okay, it happens,
Sometimes, you do misunderstand us.

And maybe teenage angst is the fuel
Of this poem,
Maybe it is another way to ‘victimize’ ourselves,
But the point is,
It’s okay even if it happens,
But sometimes, you do misunderstand us.