Inspired by Emma Mercury’s “Snapshot of My Life” post on themessyheads.com, I wanted to capture what it feels like to be 20. I often think back on years of my life and remember the big things that happens, like who I met, what trips I went on, and what big choices I made. But I tend to forget what it felt like to be me on a daily basis, and in the end, that is what’s important. That is what truly separates each year from the next. So…this is me, and “this is me at 20.”
I get into my car each morning and I’m tired, but grateful to be doing something and going somewhere. I love driving as much as I did when I was 17 and I drove off from my house alone, for the first time ever. I know that I can’t go too far, but the sheer possibility of it is exciting enough.
I think about living in America a lot, how it jades young people who have their lives ahead of them. I get so overwhelmed with the possibilities of my future and then I remember that most 20 year olds don’t even get to have these thoughts. I snap myself back into reality. It’s the price we pay for having to deal with the horrific state that we’re currently in; mass shootings, presidential candidates that don’t seem to realize that we’re talking about the presidency of an entire country, and people still getting killed for who they love or what they look like. I try not to think about it too much because it would drive me into the ground. But if you look up at the sky enough and not at the news, it doesn’t feel so bad.
I love my friends and I think about them all the time, how we somehow came together and stayed together. I’m proud of them for being 20, which I know won’t make sense. I’m proud of how far we’ve all come, despite all the bad stuff thrown our way and the stuff that I know will be thrown our way in future. I’m proud of the way they treat me and the way that I treat them. I hope we all feel 20 forever.
I still write shitty teenage poetry that tries to get my point across, but fails most of the time. I save it on my computer anyway, hoping to share it with my son or daughter when they feel like the world is against them. I know I won’t, though. Instead, I’ll take them for ice cream and drive until the sunset melts into the windshield.
I finally understand that saying, “they’re coming into they’re own.” It feels like a giant sweater that you fill up, day by day, with the choices you make, the love you give yourself, and the very vague sense that you may know what type of person you want to be. When you feel like you’re about to reach the collar, the absolute tipping point, the sweater continues to grow and you must continue to fill it. Instead of a skeleton in my closet, I have an oversized sweater…how delightfully hipster of me.
I light candles in my room, and each time the rain hits the window, I feel like I’m in a movie and imagine the possibilities; the characters I will meet, the houses I will fall in love in, the plot twists that will send my life for a spin. I sit back and take it all in. I let it feel like a movie because I deserve to.
And this is me at 20.
