Edited by: Simoni Bassi
Am I supposed to slow down because I have my whole life ahead of me, or speed up because life is passing me by?
For as long as I can remember, I’ve romanticized the idea of being in my 20s. All the freedom, friendships, spontaneous adventures and inevitable canon events that seemed to define young adulthood had my 8-to-16-year-old mind enthralled. I imagined being young, dumb and broke (minus the broke part), surrounded by my favourite people, collecting stories I’d someday tell with a nostalgic fondness for just how reckless and carefree I once was. Yet, as my 20th birthday nears and I inch closer to the age I’ve spent so long dreaming about, I find myself longing for the years I was once so eager to leave behind.
Though it felt anything but at the time, the simplicity of childhood is one I yearn for.
Having spent so many of those years craving to be ahead of my time, I often took pride in hearing, “You’re so mature for your age.” Looking back, I wonder why I rushed to grow out of those very years when I could be as carefree as I pleased.
Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t necessarily trade my freedom and independence to relive my childhood; after all, the infatuation didn’t amount to nothing, but there’s something bittersweet about realizing that I spent so much of it wishing I was somewhere else in life.
I can’t help but wonder if history will repeat itself and I’ll spend the very decade I’ve dreamt of, wishing I was in the years I was once so eager to get through, hoping for them back. What if the rumours prove to be true? What if things are about to change drastically over the next decade more than they ever will in my lifetime? Everyone seems to reinforce that your 20s are filled with some of life’s biggest changes and hardships, and as someone who hates to admit they don’t have all the answers, the thought of navigating it all is equal parts exciting and terrifying.
I spent so much of my childhood wanting to be treated like an adult, only to now realize that adulthood comes with the expectation of actually knowing how to be one.
A common theme I can’t seem to escape as time passes is spending most of my days watching the calendar pages turn in quiet anticipation for the next exciting birthday, weekend, vacation or milestone. Without something to constantly look forward to, I don’t know how I’d handle the passing time. Constantly romanticizing the future makes the present feel as though it’s just another thing to get through. The irony of this is that I’ve spent so much of my life looking forward to moments I hadn’t yet experienced, only to look back and realize I was living through moments I’d eventually do anything to experience again.
It’s like waiting for the school year to end; we wait and wait for long study days and seasonal depression to be over, only to realize when it finally is, the everyday routine, familiar faces of our friends and seemingly insignificant moments are really the most special. What once felt like an endless stretch of ordinary days, inconvenient circumstances, or stressful experiences somehow becomes a collection of memories I’d give anything to relive.
In an attempt to stop romanticizing the future at the expense of the present, I’ve been learning to find something worth appreciating in even the most imperfect moments. Shifting my mindset from “this is so difficult, I can’t wait for it to be over” to “this’ll make for a fun story” has made the inconvenient, embarrassing and chaotic moments a memory to later cherish. While learning to appreciate an experience before nostalgia gives me a reason to, I’ve come to the realization that not every moment has to be picture-perfect to be worth remembering.
My goal isn’t to turn every difficult experience into a good story for my future self to later tell, but to stop treating my present self like she’s just a character in one. I don’t want to continue life questioning whether to speed up or slow down, wishing I wasn’t using the time before my 20s as a waiting room before I get there. I don’t need to spend every waking moment nostalgic for a future I haven’t yet experienced, while simultaneously wishing I could return to a past I once couldn’t wait to escape.
I hope to learn what it means to simply be present, rather than treating the life I’m living as something I have to get through to reach the life I’m waiting for.