Twenty One: A Meaning Too Stupid For The Dictionary

I want all my readers to perform an exercise with me; I want you all to close your eyes and attempt to clear your mind completely. Attempt to take away all thoughts and preconceived notions over the topic of this post, and I want you to count. No thoughts other than the numbers you're saying, and stop counting on 21.

It's a little harder for me to do this exercise in mindfulness since the number 21 has more meaning to me now, but my point remains the same: when done, there is no difference between any of the numbers besides the values assigned to them. Without thought, they are just sounds in your head. And that's my point, or at the very least, how I feel the day after my 21st birthday. And don't get me wrong, I had a great day yesterday, and I haven't even had my actual party yet. But waking up yesterday, I had a rude awakening on the meaning of this next step in life. The number 21 is completely arbitrary; the meaning given to it is societal and strictly created by this country's laws. This is an idea I often like to feed, the idea of why things are the way they are and what they mean, if anything. And that's precisely why they say "ignorance is bliss"; I end up ruining joyous occasions with my incessant overthinking. But I digress; this all seems bleak, but I promise it's not. I think I have some pretty good thoughts on the topic, so try to stick with me here. And I implore you if you are reading this, to write some of your own experiences about turning 21 in the comments (if you are 21, of course). I'd love to learn from them as I enter further into adulthood.

I want to start by talking about my day yesterday because, despite the low-key celebration, I had a heartwarming day. It started with me and my buddy going out at midnight yesterday to order my first drinks. I had a great night, went to bed, then woke up for work. I got to see my mom at lunch, which sucked (just kidding Mom, I know you're probably reading this). All jokes aside, it was a great lunch. I also had some presents to open, which is always fun. Then, I finished the day with an outing with just my fiance and me, where we shopped and ate dinner. Needless to say, I felt more loved yesterday than I have in a long time, at least for my birthday. Between hanging with my best friend, being taken to lunch, and going to dinner with my Fiance, I had felt like my birthday mattered to others. And I think that is what really matters; I personally don't care about my birthday all that much, so when the people around you care, it makes the day feel special.

And like I said, we technically haven't even had the party yet, so continuing the celebration this weekend will be fun. But I don't want to talk about myself too much. Instead, I want to talk about the first point I was making. So, as I had said, the number 21 means nothing, but it's deemed important in our society, and that is what causes us to feel the significance of our 21st birthday. It's the next and final stage of adulthood; I am now allowed by the government to waste away drunkily. It's a strange irony that makes you wonder about maturity. I can say that the person I was a year ago is not the same person typing this blog post today, but how much different can I truly be? Maybe a lot, but no one else will grow as I did when I did; everyone else is different, and the place they will be at this point in life will be different, so what does the number 21 mean? Well, that brings into question: does the three years between being a legal adult and an adult who can drink in public make a difference in preparedness or even signify where we should be in life? But I have no answer to that question; maybe I will in the future.

With the newfound sense of invisible responsibility given to me by my birthday, I will say that I have also felt a crazy urgency, like a clock ticking loudly in my head. Many probably can relate, but just like last year, when I turned 20, I felt this urgency to progress my life, too. I feel a need to do more, experience more, and try new things. And when you are staring at the year ahead that has just now brought around this feeling, it's daunting. I think this feeling comes from my experience at 20. Life busied up quickly, and with that, many great changes happened, but with good, there is bad. The stress of keeping up with yourself is exhausting; it's like running a 5k, but the finish line runs faster than you do. It wears you down, makes you slow, makes you procrastinate. Stress kills, and I'm reminded of all the stress I will endure in the coming year if I want to go where I want to be. I talked a little bit about this in my holiday post, but the anxiety from it all is only heightened when it's something like your birthday.

The irony of it all is that all these things about the effect of turning a year older contradict my whole point: 21 is arbitrary. And that's what I am trying to wrap my tiny brain around. Why does something so meaningless, a day celebrating the birth I can't remember, a day stating I can now get shitfaced in public, change anything? This time, I might have the answer: it doesn't. Nothing is different, but once again, what you put in is what you will get out. I often hold the expectations for myself higher than anyone else around me does. Nowadays, nobody expects too much from me, but yet I don't give myself that same treatment. I tell myself it has to mean something, and that I have to change and be a better person by age 22. And that my friend is the killer. I love and hate it, but my mentality will remain the same; I will be better by 22.

And you may ask yourself: What is even the point of this blog post? And I suppose the answer is, once again, nothing. It's the ramblings of a naive kid wrapped in the uncertainty of failure. But maybe that's the most important part: just like the number 21, our feelings are often arbitrary and unwarranted to then be judged by others who perceive us as irrational and idiotic. But without the judgment, without the meaningless cultural rules, and the number 21, I wouldn't be writing this at all.

And so, I come to you all with my final thoughts. It's easy to get wrapped up in the pendulum of life, swinging from side to side, either enjoying your birthday or hating it. But what I think I have learned from being on both sides of the swing is that it's good to hate your birthday and to think about the ins and outs of its meaning. Negativity brings growth, but at the end of the day, if you have the inability to set aside your thoughts and count to 21 without feeling the emotion of what these numbers mean to you, then you probably don't want to enjoy your birthday, and that's the biggest travesty of them all. There is joy in the meaningless; for some, it's harder to find than others, but it will show itself if searched for.

Thank you again to all those who care for me despite not caring for myself. The stress is my own burden, but I wouldn't take on a lick of it if I didn't have the desire to prove myself to all those around me.