Coming into my junior year of college, the pressure is on. This is the year I apply for the combined Bachelor’s and Master’s program I’ve dreamed about. The year that I officially become an upperclassman. And the year I turn 21. By this point, the whole “becoming a grownup” ordeal is thoroughly exhausting. It seems as though every few years, there’s some new “accomplishment” that ends up sending me into an existential panic. At 11, I got my first period and had to sit through the uncomfortably cheery puberty video in class, too embarrassed to watch. At 14, I had my first crush on a girl and spent the entire year questioning everything about myself. My sweet 16 was anything but. And 18 only brought about the dreadful uncertainty of leaving for college. Now, faced with the next big milestone, I’m left wondering if it will be any different. I don’t particularly want to drink, gamble, or partake in any of the other typical 21st birthday festivities, but I don’t want to miss out. I still feel like I’m not quite an adult but definitely not a teenager. Most of all, I really can’t imagine graduating in a year or two. But freshman year feels so far away. Stuck in this weird in-between, I’m not entirely sure how to feel. Since coming to college, I’ve had to think a lot about my future career goals, post-grad plans, and life as an adult. I’ve always had a plan and was determined to stick to it almost out of stubbornness. But now that 21 is just around the corner, everything is a lot less clear than I had once thought. I’m not the same person I used to be. The plans and beliefs about my future that I thought were indisputable have changed drastically. It’s not just that I’ll be one year older. It’s that I’ll be one year closer to a life that I have to create on my own.
The opinions expressed in this article are the writer’s own and do not reflect the views of Her Campus.
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at TAMU chapter.