19 Going on 20
I blow out the glowing candles on my ice cream cake; its melted shine and neon light leave a melancholy feeling in my chest. In my final year before I enter my twenties, I'm struggling with the concept of there no longer being a -teen at the end of my age. I spent my whole life romanticizing friend groups on TV living together in their twenties, like Friends or How I Met Your Mother, but now that it's a mere few months away, I find myself grasping for an adolescence I'll never feel again.
When I was a kid, I was particularly fearful of cemeteries. I'd look out the window of my mom's car and point at rows of people who lived their own lives, now only remembered by stone slabs and daffodils. "Honey, it's okay, you're 12," my mom would tell me as my emotions took over. I had never experienced loss at that point and knew little about death, but for some reason, I felt the weight of it on my shoulders. I'd spend so much time mourning for memories that I'd forget to live in the moment, then repeat over and over again.
Why, if our twenties are supposed to be the prime of our lives, do we feel so fearful of saying goodbye to something we have known for so long? For me, it's because for most of my life I felt like I was watching from the outside looking in. In school, I knew too well the feeling of eating lunch alone, watching people pile into their cars or do simply nothing in big groups just because they could. Now, coming to college, I know that feeling is nothing but just remnants of my past; I'm angry that I feel as though I need to restart.
I tie bows on my hair that I wear in pigtails and buy perfume that reminds me of middle school. I hold onto every ticket stub and card like it was my social security number. I find myself sifting through my camera roll until the night dwindles and the morning welcomes me.
I want to chalk it up to growing up in a generation that produces only the best content. Publishing an image to your feed and not knowing what happened five minutes before or after—scrolling endlessly on a feed of people my age "living their best life" when we're all just trying to do it for the first time.
One day, my hair will be gray, and I'll need glasses to magnify my eyesight, which used to work, flipping through my journals and photos, relishing in the "glory days." I'll ask myself why I feared saying goodbye to a different era of my life instead of welcoming a new one. Like my mom says, whether you're 19 going on 20 or 52 going on 53, there will be a lot of good and bad. It's not about trying to recreate the memories we once loved but creating the new ones we will cherish. It's easier said than done, but hanging out in the past won't do you any good. I'll welcome my twenties with excitement and fear, knowing I'm about to enter a new and exciting time in my life.