The other day my friend Molly asked me, over our delicious lunch of runny marinara sauce over chewy noodles, how I was going to spend my last month of being a teenager. At first I was confused, what did she mean last month of being a teenager? I've only been a teen for, like, three seconds. She must have sensed my confused because she elaborated and said: "you turn 20 in less than a month". I do not remember if I actually did this, but there is a good chance my jaw legitimately dropped.
For some reason, in my mind I assumed I would be a teenager forever. Of course, my friends have been turning 20, 21, and 22 throughout the last year, but I never thought that would actually be me. I figured I would always have the excuse of being a wily teen for any messes I got myself into and only just barely came out on the other side of (with bangs and bruises, typically). Soon, I will not have that fall-back option as an excuse. In the past few years less and less people have called me out for being a crazy teen, but in the back of my mind I used it as justification for: getting dip in my hair, breaking my roommate's microwave plate and thus stabbing my own foot with a shard of glass, and burning my back so badly that it did not even hurt.
As I sat there considering my answer I failed to articulate my thoughts. Molly laughed at my disbelief and moved on to our next topic of conversation: how our feet were soaking after walking around campus. My quarter-life crisis faded into the background, but dominated what people consider the "back of my mind". As I tossed and turned on my knock-off memory foam mattress topper on my twin (long) bed, I thought about how I would (hopefully) have my own classroom in three years, how my friends are purposefully getting engaged now. Shotgun weddings are becoming a thing of the past for those I graduated with; people are actually settling down. And I can barely get my ass out of bed by 9:50 every day to make it to German 102.
For those of you reading this that are well past your twenties, I know what you will say to my crisis: "you're not even close to being an adult. Just wait until you're about to turn 30". Well, Mary, crises don't prefer one age over another. I spend my days thinking about how soon I'll have to do my taxes without my dad's help. How I will have to figure out how much rent I can afford and if I need a roommate (the answer to that question will likely be, yes, seeing as teachers make a, for lack of better words, crap salary). How I will be attending weddings of people my own age and sending congratulations to people my age who got pregnant on purpose. Although these last few things will likely slowly build up until an onslaught in my mid-20s, hopefully...
It's not as if I have not spent the past few months trying to polish the rougher edges of my adult-persona. Whenever I go to Goodwill I check out the business casual section (or as I call it, the "teacher clothes" section) first and make sure I have enough to get me through Wednesdays in the Workplace and student teaching. And, eventually, my very own classroom. Instead of spending the majority of my free time catching up on "How To Get Away With Murder", I spend time making lists of goals for my personal development (who am I?!). Although, I have not quite reached my goal of only two hours of Netflix and/or YouTube a day, I have started doing crosswords instead of watching Netflix--it's truly a start!
Honestly, I cannot believe that in less than a month I will be two decades old. When I think of the amount of years that is (20, obviously), I realize how long that is. 20 whole years! Think about that in relation to a prison sentence: if you heard that you were going away for 20 years you would figure it was a lifetime of years. And that's how many I've lived!
Although I have many years left to live, it's odd to think back on the ones I have already completed, and the accomplishments and trials that occurred throughout my 20 years on Earth.
I made some of the best friends I have ever had, but I lost some too, learning that sometimes it is better to part ways. I traveled to Jamaica,England, Spain, Germany, the Netherlands, and Austria. I graduated high school after a trying last semester that included being diagnosed with Depression and Anxiety along with getting Mono. I got accepted into all four colleges I applied to, along with honors programs at the ones that had one. I chose to attend my family's alma mater (my parents, two sets of aunts and uncles, and another uncle) Gustavus Adolphus College and pursue a degree in Secondary Education with a CALT (Communication Arts, Literature Teaching) endorsement. I added a Coaching minor to the mix. I went to Nationals/the Final Four for women's rugby and actually played! I got inducted into both the Education honor society and the English honor society at Gustavus. I made the President's Honor List two years in a row. And that all happened in the span of just 20 years! I have so many more to go and so many goals to accomplish, places to see, and people to meet. How lit is that?
So keep your eyes peeled because "well-behaved women seldom make history" (Louise Thatcher Ulrich said that first, FYI). And, no, I will not break the law Mom. I'm just not going to live life quietly.
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