When I was a child, my mom frequently commented on the maturity I exhibited at a young age. “Eight going on thirty” she had said one day- no doubt a reference to the beloved Jennifer Garner romcom. My mature outlook on life back then was a combination of my own desire to model myself after my cool older sisters and the personal circumstances that forced me to grow up quicker than my peers.
In that sense, I always felt older than I was- maybe as most girls do. Every moment, from elementary recesses to senior sunrises, was accompanied by my moans and groans of being stuck in high school and not experiencing the real world of life after the fact. “Things will be so much better once we get to college” is the spoonful of motivation my best friends and I fed to each other in those waning years.
It’s important to note here that, being born in mid-July, I was always the youngest in my friend group. So, when senior year hit, and tattoo appointments were booked, I was left to suffer the teasing of my friends. “You’re still a baby” they’d exclaim. I won’t lie, a part of me secretly loved being the youngest- of knowing my personal clock hadn’t yet hit the level of intensity that others had.
That should have been the first warning sign.
The week before my 18th birthday I lamented the loss of my teenage years to a carefully curated playlist of every possible song with the word “seventeen” in it. “Strawberry Wine” by Deana Carter, “betty” by Taylor Swift, “Cigarette Daydreams” by Cage the Elephant- you name it, it was in the queue. I grieved over my high school experience- of all the crushes not had, of the parties not attended, of all the things I should have said when I had the chance.
I no longer wanted to grow up.
But like everything, this (perhaps melodramatic) sadness passed and was swiftly replaced by the chaos of welcome week events, a dorm crush, nasty dining hall food, homesickness, and everything else “so college.”
After tearful FaceTime calls with my mom and realizing the consistent nature of my complaints to my older sister, it became clear that despite becoming everything I wanted to be a year prior- a college student, a legal adult, an East Coast resident even- I still felt like a kid.
I have definitely shed a tear or two pondering about certain facets of life only getting increasingly more difficult from here on out. Sure, the pressure of staying on the Dean’s list, stressing about loans while maintaining scholarships, holding leadership positions in student orgs, and trying to have a social life can all get a little taxing. But being stuck in this campus bubble has distracted me from the fact that in four years, I’ll be reminiscing about the life I have right now and wishing I could worry about chapter meetings and essay word counts instead of making rent and not having a meal plan to fall back on. The same way I wish I was still worrying about homecoming dresses and even high school mean girls… okay, maybe not the high school mean girls.
The point is, I’ve fallen into this pit of foreboding during a year that I thought would be golden. I just can’t seem to see the forest for the trees. I get so wrapped up in these small obstacles and dread the challenges that will inevitably come my way in the future, but I need to realize that the only constant thing in life is change- cliché and annoying, but I guess it’s true….
Admittedly, eighteen has brought me so many incredible opportunities, pushing me to grow in ways I never thought imaginable. Whether it was through moving across the country, meeting completely new people, becoming an editor for Her Campus, or receiving a director position at my sorority, I can without a doubt say that the positives outweighed the negatives for my eighteenth year around the sun.
With spring semester ending and the age of nineteen fast approaching, I can’t promise that the week leading up to my birthday won’t be drowned out with those cheesy songs about eighteen (hello, One Direction), but I can promise that I’ll be focusing more on all the blessings I have coming my way.
A little piece of advice? Slow down and look around yourself in this very moment. Celebrate and appreciate what’s in your life right now. In just one year, everything could be different.