R.I.P to my youth
and you can call this the funeral.
okay, so now that you've made it past my dramatic title and introduction (all thanks to The Neighbourhood), let's get this party started:
A dramatic picture for a dramatic post
I had this four page long post typed out by the end of my birthday that didn’t do anything but reveal that my capitalization is more inconsistent than my gym motivation, and I do a horrible job of staying on topic. I just wanted to get this post right, you know?
So I’m trying it again, a month later.
20
I thought about the best way to put this birthday into words and this is what I came up with:
Growing up is like ordering a chocolate covered pickle: you know you’re going to hate it, but you’re just so damn intrigued by the idea that you keep telling your mom how much you want it no matter how much she tells you you’re not gonna like it.
Age 20 is my chocolate pickle. It’s a balance of sweet + salty, but it didn’t quite live up to my expectations.
Ah, expectations. The big “E” word.
I’m a daydream addict. I can’t get enough of them; if I could run a direct line of imagination into my veins, I'd do it. I tune out of work, school, and long car rides with my headphones in to have them. Like most people, I’m always making up things and imaging what life would be like if they actually happened (like if Matthew Gray Gubler finally woke up one day and realized he couldn't live another day without me). Except I’ve got the memory of an elephant, and the stubbornness of my dad, so I never forget, and then those daydreams accidentally become standards...expectations.
EXAMPLE: I’m not sure why, but every time I imagined myself going to college when I was a kid, I thought of me, driving down an empty country road in a red top down convertible, wearing a neck scarf and round polka dot sunglasses. I also imagined my carefree self absolutely busting out to “Breakaway” by Kelly Clarkson (I blame the Disney Girl's Rock CD I had at the time).
Then I went to college.
My parents drove me up in their navy blue Hyundai, and I sat in the backseat with my headphones in listening to “Breakaway” and throwing myself a pity party. When I arrived at school, I unpacked and then my parents and I sat on the floor and ate chinese takeout. We said our goodbyes and they left. Then I turned on "Never Grow Up" by Taylor Swift and sobbed, alone in my room, because of how much I missed my parents. I had never been so homesick in my entire life, and there was this nagging in the back of my mind that said, “this isn’t what you thought it’d be.”
I catch myself doing it now. I daydream into what life will be like after college and I like to picture me, 15lbs lighter, living in my own little apartment in some city, revising books as the big-shot editor I am, and playing fetch with my big old yellow labrador, Harvey.
I have big shoes for myself, and I’m having a very hard time filling them (Ask my friends, I’ve had at least six breakdowns this past month about just finding an internship, so I don’t know how I’m ever supposed to become Thirty, Flirty, and Thriving).
However, these past couple of months have also made me realize that I can’t keep imagining myself as someone completely different when I think about my future. I realized how bad of a habit I got into of comparing my present self to the futuristic illusion of me that I had created years ago. Contrary to, “speaking it into existence”, I basically just ended up looking at myself as something less whenever I got to where I was going. Don’t get it twisted, I’ve still got dreams the size of my forehead, but I’m learning to generate healthy motivations and realistic expectations for myself.
Basically, I’ve got real bad FOMOOMOL (say that outloud): Fear of Missing Out on My Own Life. I’m constantly planning; taking stock of my life and the things I have done with it and wondering if I’ll ever finally fill these Shaq size shoes I’ve picked out for myself.
Then I remember Vienna.
Billy Joel has a song called “Vienna” that wholeheartedly encapsulates where I’m at right now; I know this because my heart swells every time it comes on shuffle (well, any song from The Stranger for that matter). Vienna is this huge metaphor for the rest of your life. It’s waiting for you and isn’t going anywhere. It’s a song for the restless and ambitious youth, a lesson in patience; a reminder to slow down and enjoy where you are rather than constantly anticipating where you’re going. It’s a reminder that I need throughout everyday.
I naively thought that by 20, I’d have it alllllll figured out. I thought that by now I’d have a stable bank account and a relationship, but yesterday I went into overdraft for buying a bag of ice and the closest thing I have to a stable relationship is the guy that orders a tall blonde every morning at Starbucks.
But, while I was writing out this post, I realized something unexpected and freeing:
I’m so excited to not have everything figured out.
It’s true, I’ve never been more happy to not have my shit together! (the Emily Schulte in me that just wants to be a tumblr study blogger is quivering). But honestly, life would be convenient, but so incredibly boring if I always knew what was happening next. Some of my best memories have been ones that were never planned, like driving to the beach at 4AM to watch the sunrise or the time me and my friends found ourselves dancing in the middle of an empty intersection at 2AM. Next year I could be living across the world, or have blue hair, or be dead (okay um hello angsty Emily), or maybe even still here in San Marcos. Who knows?! That’s the beauty of never having it figured out; it's limitless.
So here’s what I decided I'm calling this chapter of my life:
Learning to Love the Chaos: One Girl’s Blind Descent Into Her Twenties
Life isn't always old Kelly Clarkson songs and red top down convertibles; it's awkward and confusing and absolutely unbearable at times, but damn...how incredible is it that we even get one (a life) and the chance to have 80-100 years to dabble around in everything this world has to offer. (Thanks for coming to the motivational part of my Ted Talk)
In the first quarter of mine, I've learned that life expectations are dumb and taking chances are the coolest. I'm here to work hard, kick ass, and see where this little old heart of mine takes me. I’m nervous and scared, but so unbelievably ready to embrace the white noise, the gloriously long nights, and the fact that I have absolutely no idea what Vienna has in store for me.
So here's to twenty.
