A Pile of -Philes/ I Should’ve Known for a While

I’ve spent many years fussing over what I’d become when I “grew up.” I have yet to grow up but I know now that whatever I will be will spring from what I always was: a bibliophile, logophile, lexophile, and a wordsmith.

I should have known in 6th, 7th, 8th, and 9th grade when I lay sprawled in front of the living room television, tuning out the sound and devouring every play and story from my literature text books.

I should have known when I turned down games of Capture the Flag, Ghost in the Graveyard, Tag, and kickball for an afternoon with my books.

I should’ve known when I’d asked for a pocket dictionary for Christmas at the age of 12 and almost peed myself when my parents presented me with the dictionary and an accompanying thesaurus.

I should have known when instead of singing in the mirror, I used my hairbrush microphone to deliver reverent speeches to the masses.

I should have known when my thoughts would stir on their own, formulating the most beautiful sentence in my mind, forcing me to rush and write it down before it swam away.

I should have known when my mom nicknamed me Barbara (Walters) because I could observe, gather, record, and report on household occurrences better than any four year old she’d ever known.

I should have known when I ran into displays, carts, and people at the grocery store with my nose tucked in a book, relying only on my mother’s voice, the sound of her cart, and my peripheral vision for navigation.

I should have known when Merriam & Webster were the only people I trusted with my writing assignments.

I should have known when I’d trot to my room for an afternoon of punishment– that’s where all the books were.

I should have known when I bought a journal in third grade, anxious to record my life story starting with the two baby stories my parents had relayed to me time and time again.

I should have known when I’d subconsciously soak up and regurgitate words and writing styles from my favorite authors.

I should have known when I couldn’t decide if my memory was flawless or terrible. I was always forgetting something “important” because my mind was busy recording other aspects of the situation in perfect detail.

I should have known when I discovered my pile of -philes and felt at home, finally putting words to what I was.