I wish I could be 21 for the rest of my life. Not because I’m scared of aging, or because I’m worried about wrinkles, or scared of how my body will change over time. I want to stay 21 because the past year brought all my best moments. I wish I could keep this year in a bottle and drink it every day like a travel-sized fountain of youth. I accomplished so much while being 21 and I’m proud of myself.
I’m also worried, I think, that 22 will not bring the same experiences as 21. I know it won’t. That’s not how life is, that’s not how this period of my life is. 21, I graduated college, moved to a new city, ran a literary magazine, was published thrice, started my first full-time job, and made lots of new friends. 22 doesn’t have those plans. 22 has no plans.
I have goals, yes, for this year, but that’s unrelated to being 22. I feel the need to have something that marks this year as “the year I was 22” instead of “the year I turned 22.” Those two things feel different to me. Turning 22 sounds like it is the only action I do this year. The year I was 22 means it’s a mark in time to remind me of everything else that happened. Because when I think about being 21, I don’t think about turning 21. Sure, I had a birthday party and that was a lot of fun, but that’s not what I think about. I think about all the things I did while being 21. The adventures, laughs, proud moments. I want those for 22.
And why, please tell me, does my birthday always come around right when I’m getting comfortable with my age? I don’t feel 22. I feel 21. Sometimes I still feel 20, or even 19. Sometimes I feel 18. I don’t feel 22. The years go by quicker and quicker and I’m scared! I’m scared of not doing everything I want to do. My 20’s are the time I need to be getting everything done I can’t do later. I’m supposed to have all the fun in my 20’s. That’s sad to me. I have these ten years and then that’s it? That’s all I can look forward to? I can’t have fun after that? I don’t want to believe it, but I also feel like I need to take advantage of these years, just in case everyone’s right and these are the only fun ten years of my life.
I don’t want to turn 22. I really love this last chapter of my life. But change is good. Even if the change is just in my head. That’s why I’m writing about it, I think. To bring it out of my head and turn it into something physical. 22 will be good to me. I will be good to 22. One good thing about having an early birthday in the year is that by the time I’ve locked into my new year’s goals, I get older, and those goals become part of a new age kind of goal. It’s 2026, and I have goals, but now I’ll be 22, and I have goals. I want to do something with 22, to make 22 stand out, be memorable. Maybe I can even beat 21. I can put everything I have into this year and make 22 better than 21.
Thank you 21, for being the best I’ve ever been, but it’s time for something new.
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