My best friend Cecilia turned 20 in early September, and being long-distance, we often chat about what is making us upset and attempt to help each other find the humor in it.
“It’s knowing that turning 20 marks the end of my teenage years,” she told me over text one day when talking about my upcoming birthday. “Being faced with the fact that I can never go back made me want to die … and it just keeps going and you’re actually only young for so long.”
The most difficult part of no longer being a teenager for many is the feeling like you’re losing a part of yourself that you felt so secure with for so long. This makes sense to me because my entire development as a person has occurred while I was a teenager. All of the bad and good decisions, people I have met, and lessons I have learned have made me who I am today, even if my brain isn’t fully developed.
Growing up, I used to yearn for adulthood and gaining my independence. All I wanted to do was be a teenager, drive my own car, and be able to do things without having to ask my parents first. But now, actually being that age, it really is not all that glamorous. I never had my own car, and being in college, sure, I do things without having to ask my parents, but that doesn’t mean I am not constantly texting my mom about my latest roommate drama or what I ate for lunch.
Being 19 is glamorous. Think about it: when was the last time you listened to a song where being in your early twenties was portrayed as elegant and exciting? Typically, media about being twentysomething feels more like a reminder that you can still have fun despite your age, or even all the troubles you’ll go through while navigating your twenties. Now, what about songs about being a teenager? I think of The Backseat Lovers’ song, “Kilby Girl,” with their famous line, “I overheard that she was nineteen / She’s got a fake ID and a nose ring / Those kinds of girls tend to know things better than I do.” It was an admiration to be like the 19-year-olds everyone was writing about. We had an urge to be the main character, as if being a certain age would put us in a mindset to have that self-confidence.
Even when I turned 17, I had felt a similar glamorous feeling because of the song “1980s Horror Film II” by Wallows. Lead singer, Dylan Minette, sings, “Oh, why are girls in songs always 17?” After listening to this song, I noticed discourse online that girls wanted to be the seventeen-year-old girl that boy bands wrote about. But where are the song lyrics about the glamorous sensations that come with being in your early twenties?
Turning 20 is not the same as turning 18 or 21. Sure, at 20 you can vote and serve for your country, but you can’t legally drink yet, so why is turning 20 such a big deal? Turning 20 is not just the end; it’s a new beginning. My twenties will bring so many more experiences that will have greater effects on my life, like my study abroad plans next semester. Being 1,000 miles away from my parents could be the cause, but I feel more like an adult going into my twenties than I did at 18.
In the midst of my crisis about my last week being 19, I am reminded that my friends and I are all growing up together. Cecilia and I, now in different states, joke, mourn, and joke some more about the high school years we spent eating lunch in her car, and that we are both not alone in losing the glamour of being a teenager. At the end of the day, we are facing the unknown together, and maybe that is what being 20 is all about.