Growing up, my birthday wasn’t celebrated the same way my friends celebrated their big day. When I was younger, I was fortunate to have the family-type birthday parties, where I didn’t really get to have fun. It was more or less my job to make sure my family was having fun celebrating my birthday.
For my Sweet 16, my family put on a surprise birthday party. They definitely surprised me, however; the peers they invited for me weren’t exactly my closest friends. I was in a room full of girls who used to be my friends. Their new hobby was bullying me and several other girls on the winter guard team.
Since my birthday experiences weren’t always the best, I had hoped that the year I would turn 21 years old would be the birthday to last a lifetime.
My plan was to party. I would invite all my closest friends, get fake proposed to for some free drinks as we traveled around to as many bars as we could, and listen to hits from 2010. The Jonas Brothers and Hannah Montana were some of the top choices.
However, with COVID still cramping everyone’s style, my 21st isn’t going to be as fun as I had imagined. Maybe there are more pressing issues to worry about, but I like to think life experiences should be treasured.
Society only runs on one speed- turbo. Sometimes, the fast pace leaves people with regret. I don’t want my life to pass by. When I’m on death’s door, I want to leave behind a legacy. I want to tell stories full of wild adventures that my grandchildren want to aspire to achieve. I want to be the cool grandma who still wears biker jackets with my gray hair flowing through the wind. I want to travel the world, eat exotic foods with bikinis as my main source of attire.
With my 21st birthday only a few days away, I yearn for COVID to give me one day. One day to love life again. To feel alive.
As for now, ‘Happy 21st birthday to me!’ May 2022 be everyone’s year.