Being 21 is the Literal Worst

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.