I hate everything.
I understand nothing.
"It comes with the territory," a few people have told me now. "Those are the dues you pay when you're 21."
It's a hot and vibrant stage of living, the age I'm at now. Imagination, ambition, intention: all fiery and blazing. On the other hand, we are struggling and resisting as our inner children fade away with each "lesson learned". The fight going on between the pretty world in my head and the actual world around me is draining. Discouraging.
Being 21 is the literal worst. At least right now. Maybe 22 will turn out to be the literal worst, or 30, or 50. I guess it could always go downhill from here, and maybe that should be my logic for happiness - "cheer up, things are only going to get worse!"
But 21 feels so sucky.
We are expected to launch ourselves into a bright and beautiful future. We have goals, opportunities, and open doors. I have the security of knowing I'm a healthy, intelligent, capable woman who can go wherever she pleases. I have these intangible "reasons" that are supposed to sustain me through this turbulent time - faith. love. hope. ethics. passion. perseverance.
Why then, at the end of every day, do I hate everything and understand nothing?
Why am I so weary?
Having a great wide-open world is overwhelming.
Every day we trudge through our "open doors" with our backpacks full of plans and schemes to get ahead. We launch into careers, relationships, mindsets... and it's never what we think it will be. That world in our heads explodes into a mushroom cloud of disappointment and disillusionment and we are left reeling - hating everything, understanding nothing.
IT'S THE LITERAL WORST
But it's where so many great stories start - in the places we don't want to be. Maybe it's your school. Your home. Maybe it's waking up next to the wrong person - again. Maybe it's a soul-numbing job. Or just the intangible need within you for something else.
But, alas, to be 21 is to suck (sometimes). We have to hate everything (sometimes). We have to feel that piercing angst, the wistfulness, the red-hot irritation of being an idiot despite your best attempts otherwise. The dust of our shattered expectations eventually settles and reveals an unexpected setting for the next turn in the tale, I suppose.
So, yes, being 21 is the literal worst.
But the literal worst is okay. You are okay. Let some things blow up in your face. It's the dues you pay when you're 21.
Sunday, February 26, 2017
Saturday, February 11, 2017
Kara Kara, Quite Contreras
Well, today marks ONE WEEK since my dearest friend Kathryn and I gathered our wilting bouquets, our aching feet, and a menagerie of tokens from suitors (two phone numbers. we got two phone numbers.) and left our best friend Kara's wedding reception venue and headed for the hills.
By the hills, I mean the dorm we were staying in. We were exhausted!
Fun is exhausting. It was a fantastic weekend, full of flowers and tacos and crying. Some of my favorite things!
It's hard to believe our own dear Kara is MARRIED - married to a man she met and fell for in a divine whirlwind. Six months ago, we didn't know this man existed, and now... he's going to be around for a while* and it's crazy and exciting.
*forever. HE'S GONNA BE HERE FOREVER!
This was my first wedding as a bridesmaid. Hopefully, they get less emotional with the more of them you're a part of, because while I managed to not shed a single tear during the ceremony, I must admit a multitude of them were cried later that night as I lay in a strange bed feeling overwhelmed with sentiment, nostalgia, dreams, and fears.
(Anyway, back to the wedding.)
The rehearsal seemed to fly by, with Kathryn and I arriving like a hurricane after an eight hour drive just a mere forty minutes before our practice run was scheduled. We dumped our bags in a small room in the back of the missionary housing, Kathryn curled my hair, we smacked up our faces with some makeup and threw on our heels and the chaos began!
It was a blur of new faces, with a few familiar ones. Kara's two sisters, who are as stunning and smart as she is, filled the evening with their laughter and personality. It was the first time I've seen all three of them in the same room since Anna (the oldest of the three girls) got married nearly EIGHT YEARS AGO!
Talk about SENTIMENTAL!
So, the rehearsal flew by, the dinner flew by - in a frenzied exchange of English and Spanish, and after the meal Kathryn and I were whisked away by new friends (who were still strangers, really) for a night of dancing and drinks in a nightclub tucked away in the basement of an old inn.
By the time we arrived back at our lodging at nearly two, we were both exhausted, and we didn't sleep but a wink before the sun rose on the day of the ceremony.
Boyce College (where we stayed) is a beautiful campus with a sense of seriousness and peace resting on it in the mornings like dew. A February wedding meant the air was crisp, cold, but BRIGHT. It was not the dead of winter. Promises of spring were visible. But it was still butt-cold. The bridesmaids flapped about steaming gowns and curling hair - painting our eyes and lips and chattering about the day to come, and like the night before, it flew by...
Until it was time to join the bride, and then, at risk of sounding cliche, time truly slowed to a near halt as we saw her prepared to walk down the aisle.
Kara looked stunning in a long, lace gown and veil. There's something TRULY magical about a wedding dress. The word is truly "transformative". Kara is a naturally gorgeous girl, with those freckles that incite smiles in any crowd, sweet green-blue eyes that crinkle alongside her chiming laughter. She's a TOTAL BABE. And in that wedding gown, it was impossible to tear your eyes from her!
It was a dreamlike moment when we all clipped down the hallway in our swirling dresses and fancy shoes, to the foot of the staircase that she was at the top of - smiling and swaying with a blue bouquet clasped in her hands. Sunlight poured down on her from a two-story window.
It was magic!
I looked over at Kathryn, who NEVER (I repeat! NEVER!) cries, to see tears welling up in her sweet eyes.
It was hard. It was sweet, it was lovely, it was exciting, but it was hard.
"We can't curl up in bed with her at sleepovers, or call her at all hours, or have surprised visits anymore..." Kathryn and I had said the night before in the car. "It's going to be so different."
This is a special, sweet time. This time where we remain with one foot firmly planted in singleness - still somewhat in girlhood. Yet the other foot is tentatively dipped into a pool of possibilities. Every man who lays eyes on us could be the one to soon "whisk us away" to our own wedding day. We sway back and forth between which foot we want to be the one to step forward with.
Do we want singleness? Youth? Freedom of choice?
...OR do we want LOVE! Romance! Responsibility. Commitment!
Do we want the role we have now or the one that Kara has so quickly stepped into? The answer is: we want both! And both are scary.
These are the thoughts that plagued me as I walked down the aisle, a nervous smile plastered to my face.
And then, those doors opened, and she stepped through. On her father's arm. Beaming. Her dress streaming across the red carpet behind her as she stepped forward to take the arm of the man who will, in sickness and in health, stand by her.
My girl is married.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And so, the ceremony eventually ended after teary eyes and goosebumps all around, and we danced our hearts out at the reception, and then we got to the point where we began this blog post: sore feet, wilting bouquets.
Kathryn and I changed out of our dresses and went to get Japanese food by ourselves in a quiet little place off-campus.
Fun is exhausting.
Love is exhausting.
We slept like babies that night, and in fact, I've slept like a baby every night since!
Congratulations to the beautiful and lovely Mr. and Mrs. Contreras. Love is a many-splendored thing.
By the hills, I mean the dorm we were staying in. We were exhausted!
Fun is exhausting. It was a fantastic weekend, full of flowers and tacos and crying. Some of my favorite things!
It's hard to believe our own dear Kara is MARRIED - married to a man she met and fell for in a divine whirlwind. Six months ago, we didn't know this man existed, and now... he's going to be around for a while* and it's crazy and exciting.
*forever. HE'S GONNA BE HERE FOREVER!
This was my first wedding as a bridesmaid. Hopefully, they get less emotional with the more of them you're a part of, because while I managed to not shed a single tear during the ceremony, I must admit a multitude of them were cried later that night as I lay in a strange bed feeling overwhelmed with sentiment, nostalgia, dreams, and fears.
(Anyway, back to the wedding.)
The rehearsal seemed to fly by, with Kathryn and I arriving like a hurricane after an eight hour drive just a mere forty minutes before our practice run was scheduled. We dumped our bags in a small room in the back of the missionary housing, Kathryn curled my hair, we smacked up our faces with some makeup and threw on our heels and the chaos began!
It was a blur of new faces, with a few familiar ones. Kara's two sisters, who are as stunning and smart as she is, filled the evening with their laughter and personality. It was the first time I've seen all three of them in the same room since Anna (the oldest of the three girls) got married nearly EIGHT YEARS AGO!
Talk about SENTIMENTAL!
So, the rehearsal flew by, the dinner flew by - in a frenzied exchange of English and Spanish, and after the meal Kathryn and I were whisked away by new friends (who were still strangers, really) for a night of dancing and drinks in a nightclub tucked away in the basement of an old inn.
By the time we arrived back at our lodging at nearly two, we were both exhausted, and we didn't sleep but a wink before the sun rose on the day of the ceremony.
Boyce College (where we stayed) is a beautiful campus with a sense of seriousness and peace resting on it in the mornings like dew. A February wedding meant the air was crisp, cold, but BRIGHT. It was not the dead of winter. Promises of spring were visible. But it was still butt-cold. The bridesmaids flapped about steaming gowns and curling hair - painting our eyes and lips and chattering about the day to come, and like the night before, it flew by...
Until it was time to join the bride, and then, at risk of sounding cliche, time truly slowed to a near halt as we saw her prepared to walk down the aisle.
Kara looked stunning in a long, lace gown and veil. There's something TRULY magical about a wedding dress. The word is truly "transformative". Kara is a naturally gorgeous girl, with those freckles that incite smiles in any crowd, sweet green-blue eyes that crinkle alongside her chiming laughter. She's a TOTAL BABE. And in that wedding gown, it was impossible to tear your eyes from her!
It was a dreamlike moment when we all clipped down the hallway in our swirling dresses and fancy shoes, to the foot of the staircase that she was at the top of - smiling and swaying with a blue bouquet clasped in her hands. Sunlight poured down on her from a two-story window.
It was magic!
I looked over at Kathryn, who NEVER (I repeat! NEVER!) cries, to see tears welling up in her sweet eyes.
It was hard. It was sweet, it was lovely, it was exciting, but it was hard.
"We can't curl up in bed with her at sleepovers, or call her at all hours, or have surprised visits anymore..." Kathryn and I had said the night before in the car. "It's going to be so different."
This is a special, sweet time. This time where we remain with one foot firmly planted in singleness - still somewhat in girlhood. Yet the other foot is tentatively dipped into a pool of possibilities. Every man who lays eyes on us could be the one to soon "whisk us away" to our own wedding day. We sway back and forth between which foot we want to be the one to step forward with.
Do we want singleness? Youth? Freedom of choice?
...OR do we want LOVE! Romance! Responsibility. Commitment!
Do we want the role we have now or the one that Kara has so quickly stepped into? The answer is: we want both! And both are scary.
These are the thoughts that plagued me as I walked down the aisle, a nervous smile plastered to my face.
And then, those doors opened, and she stepped through. On her father's arm. Beaming. Her dress streaming across the red carpet behind her as she stepped forward to take the arm of the man who will, in sickness and in health, stand by her.
My girl is married.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And so, the ceremony eventually ended after teary eyes and goosebumps all around, and we danced our hearts out at the reception, and then we got to the point where we began this blog post: sore feet, wilting bouquets.
Kathryn and I changed out of our dresses and went to get Japanese food by ourselves in a quiet little place off-campus.
Fun is exhausting.
Love is exhausting.
We slept like babies that night, and in fact, I've slept like a baby every night since!
Congratulations to the beautiful and lovely Mr. and Mrs. Contreras. Love is a many-splendored thing.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)