It’s the number of times I hear the nostalgic phrase, “Oh, to be 20 again,” that just irks my soul.
I get it. There’s a privilege in youth. There’s the lack of responsibility and accountability- depending on circumstances, of course. You’re able to mess up and not let it define your entire life.
Admittedly, my parents’ financial and emotional support are guiding me through my transition from childhood into adulthood, and I am forever grateful for their patience and willingness to support my college degree.
When I was 18 and 19— yes, I was legally an adult, but was I really an adult? Let’s all be real here: I was still a teenager with the enabled ability to vote and buy lottery tickets. However, I still lived with my parents, cried about my teenage issues to my mom, and dyed my hair vibrant colors because I didn’t have to worry about conservative bosses while looking for jobs.
Granted, I still do the same things now….
I’ll be honest: I was looking forward to 20. If anything, my younger self was thinking about being 20 for a long time. I romanticized what I would be like at such a grown age. Still, I can’t help but acknowledge that 20 has not been anything I expected it to be.
In my sophomore year, I have learned that college is seriously not all fun and games. Classes are manageable, but classes on top of work (for me, three jobs), and club and organization responsibilities– girl, it can be tiring.
In addition, attempting to maintain an actively dwindling mental health is quite difficult when the worries of your future and impending death becomes a more realized reality.
When you’re 20 years old, you’re actually an adult. Not the weird in-between ages where you still have “-teen” attached to your age.
At 20, I realized that life is actually moving, and you can’t turn back. You are going to get older and start experiencing the life-defining elements of a mortal experience, including: love, marriage, kids, establishing a career, aging. Most are not a requirement, but will I be able to get away from the fear of missing out?
At 20, I’m stumbling- my grades are struggling and existential crises are hitting hard.
Respectfully, I don’t think I will be peacefully reminiscing about being 20. But seriously– if life really doesn’t get better than this, I’m (Can I curse?) f*cking terrified.