#freeformessay

[annnaanya]

an ode to twenty.

i blinked and suddenly, i am no longer 12, or 15, or 18. i am no longer a child.

I complain a lot. Awfully a lot for someone who hasn’t experienced much at all. May it be over something I cannot control, may it be about someone who has a mind of their own. Stepping into the 20’s club was a journey I never thought I’d get to experience ever. I never planned on living this long, but I guess it’s not too bad. You get your ups and downs, but everything matters, right? Could be for the better for or for the worse, but everything qualifies to be packed up to experience. On the brighter side, it's a more valid reason to complain.

Oh, 20. You’ve done a number on me. If I didn’t know better I wouldn’t have recognized the girl who I was before you. I blinked and suddenly I’m no longer a child. Suddenly, I’m dragging myself out of bed, making myself pretty to pretend like nothing ever fazes me, even if everything does—everything shakes my very being, but I’ve learned to never blink even when things go downhill. I’ve learned how to function even when I’m under the bus, getting drowned in the mud that I personally made myself. I’ve learned how to push through even through the moments that feel suffocating—even through moments that feel like it’s never going to end. I’ve learned how to let go of the heavy things, maybe even some of the pretty things that make my heart feel nice in the name of pushing through. I don’t know how to feel about it, it doesn’t feel fair that I still don’t have the best decision making skills and my judgment is still basically questionable, but hey, if I’m still here, maybe I’m still doing something right, no?

I could go on picking bones on every single questionable thing I’ve done during you, but this is an ode after all, so I will refrain. You’ve done good amid it all, I guess it’s only fair to tell you how proud I am of you. 6 months ago, you were told (by someone professional btw) that you were afraid of success, mostly because of the discomfort that it came with. While it’s already been years of fighting yourself, I’m glad you’re still winning. I’m glad that we’re still here. I’m glad you’re growing to be okay with the discomfort that life throws at you. You’re still shit at it, but you’re okay. You have people to hold on to. They want to be there for you, you need to stop gaslighting yourself that they don’t and that you don’t deserve them. It’s okay. It’s cheesy, but man, everything will be alright in time. You’ll figure it out eventually. 

Life didn’t stop when you were 15. It didn’t stop (in no particular order) when you failed your finals, or when flunked out of the dean’s list, or when you were in the brink of not finishing your thesis on time for the defense, or when some guy broke your heart, or when you physically didn’t walk the stage to deliver your high school speech that you dreamed of for 6 solid years, or when you didn’t get to your dream college—it didn’t stop even if you were too tired to think straight. Life didn’t stop at 15 and all of the other times you wish it would. So now you’re here, finally at 21. It’s not what you expected it to look like, but hey, it’s going to make sense in the long run. Just hold on. You have loved and lost and you’re going to feel more of those but it’s always better to love and have lost than to lose and never have loved at all. 

Fuck whatever happens at 21, let yourself have fun even just for the hope of it all.