Life as a young adult in modern society is not a walk in the park, unless of course the park you’re referring to is in the fiery depths of hell, where evil takes human form as “nice guys” and obstacles like “sales” and “healthy fats” taunt you daily.
Nevertheless, we’re responsible for navigating ourselves with grace and poise, but it’s okay to succumb to the “nice guy” every once in awhile or blow your rent money on panties and eat a whole plate of mashed potatoes, and I think more people need to be aware of that, myself included.
I tend to be a perfectionist. I need the perfect GPA, a well-paying job, a beautiful place of my own to live, etc. My first two years of college were spent desperately holding on to this idea that all of that was possible, and frankly, it was.
I got a promotion my Sophomore year which meant business meetings and heels, I moved out of my small studio apartment and into a lavish one bedroom with wood floors and a beautiful walk-in closet (that was still too small, mind you, but a step up nonetheless), and my cumulative GPA was a 4.04. Better yet, I did it all by myself. I was Destiny’s Child’s definition of an independent woman, and damnit I was proud. If you checked my Facebook, you’d see endless selfies promoting my achievements and letting everyone know how happy I was. I was focusing so hard on convincing everyone else that I was doing well that I almost believed it myself.
What you didn’t see were the sleepless nights (and not the good ones, if you catch my drift…). You didn’t see me slumped in the corner of the waiting room at the doctors office at least once a month because I was so sick I could barely function. You didn’t see me spending eight hours re-reading an essay because it had to be the best in the class. You didn’t see me skipping class for work, or spending my only day off trying to make a small dent in the mountain of laundry that consumed my room.
I wasn’t just trying to keep up, I was trying to excel and while it was noble, it wasn’t practical.
I believe you only need to be two things in life: happy and healthy. I was neither.
Junior year rolls around and I’m so physically sick all the time I’m spending more money on doctor’s appointments than clothes. I am 20 years old. Something had to give.
Instead of giving up my job, dropping out of school, or moving back in with my parents, I gave up my unrealistic expectations of myself.
Right now, I have three A’s and three B’s, and I’m not cursing myself and crying over it. I’m creating a work schedule that is compatible with my school schedule, I only have one load of laundry to do, and I haven’t been sick in two months (please God don’t let this article jinx me).
I think we become so engulfed in doing things we think will make us happy that we don’t leave ourselves enough time to actually be happy. We’re trying to balance our time instead of our happiness.
I had to give a little in a lot of areas of my life to make room for me, and considering it’s MY life, that’s really sad. What’s even worse is that it took me 20 years to realize it.
Your 20’s are your years to be selfish. Soon you’ll have a small army of children demanding snacks and refusing naps, a significant other that you’ll probably hate slightly more than you love, and a list of obligations that far supersede what you have now.
Travel. Explore. Skip a class for a daytrip to Disneyland, why don’t you?
Live your life without being bound by your own unrealistic expectations. I promise that when you find the balance between what you need and what you want, your life will officially begin.
