Earlier this week, much to my mother’s dismay, I achieved adulthood. No, I didn’t graduate college. And no, I didn’t buy my first house … or start my career … or really, do anything that incredible.

I turned 21-years-old.

At first, as any college kid would be, I was excited at what the day would bring. Endless drinks, endless fun, a sense of pride that my 18, 19, and 20-year-old friends, simply, would never understand. If I even remembered the night it would be a miracle. I could only begin to imagine what would happen.

Let me paint you a picture of those first 24 hours. I got my shiny new horizontal license and I made my first alcoholic beverage purchase (a single bottle of beer that some commercial had convinced me I wanted to try). That was it. Seriously. I didn’t party or get hammered because I had class the next morning.

I didn’t do anything that I thought I would do as a newly-minted adult.

At first, admittedly, I was pretty bummed out at this. That evening I began to feel that I had let down everyone who was "of age." I felt that I was doing something wrong, that I was somehow less of a 21-year-old because I could actually remember the events of the day and wasn’t clouded in some drunken haze. Where was my grandiose party, the oversized keg and the sea of bottles and red cups that I was so accustomed to seeing in the movies?

The lack of partying and excitement wasn’t necessarily the issue, however. Wasn’t I supposed to feel some sense of accomplishment on that day? I was ready to take on the world, but, quite frankly, the world didn’t seem to give a shit. Even the cashier who rang me out that afternoon hadn’t asked to see my freshly-pressed ID. C’mon, man! I was practically ready to show off my new license and ask, “How’s my hair?,” before you so rudely asked, “Is that all today, sir?” Unbelievable.

But as I sat in bed with my cat, Marble, that night and began to replay the day’s events, something clicked in my non-inebriated brain that made a lot of sense to me. Why had I been so obsessed with something that everyone had done or will do at some point in their lives? But, more importantly, why was I so concerned with the approval of others in regards to my own choices?

I was so obsessed with turning 21, so obsessed with becoming "legal" that I had forgotten the single most incredible aspect of adulthood — being able to do what I wanted to do, when I wanted to because it mattered to me. Not that it made a difference to anyone but myself. I began to understand that I had hit the point where I could live my life as I wanted to and that I don’t have to rely on someone else to approve and condone what was right in front of my eyes.

So what, the cashier didn’t card me and make sure I legally had the opportunity and privilege to make that purchase. Who cares that I didn’t go bar-hopping around town with the goal of reaching 21 drinks to commemorate my 21st birthday? And, truth be told, I’ve never been that fixated on partying to the tune of a Flo Rida playlist in a pool of cheap liquor and even cheaper beer. I guess, without even knowing it, I was doing what I had truly wanted to do all along.

Here is to the rest of my life, to the rest of our lives. To all of the 21-year-olds just trying to figure their lives out. I still have a long way to go, myself. Hell, I have no clue what I want to do with my life, let alone what I am going to wear tomorrow. But now I realize that I will never get anywhere that I want to be in life if I continually seek the approval of others and strive to meet the expectations of everyone else.

Whether it's choosing a major in college, choosing a career path or simply choosing a beverage on a Friday night with friends — you have to decide for yourself. And you have to live your life for yourself.

I can drink to that. Cheers.