Skip to main content

21 paradox

Back in January I was scared out of my wits when facing my class 5 driving test. I ended up locking myself out of my car 1 hour before the test so I never made it there to begin with. But I can't forget having nightmares about driving into a ditch, or crashing into a bus, or running over pedestrians. Every time I think about taking that driving test,  I can only imagine disasters.

Yet, whenever I take the wheel, I feel completely in control. I almost immediately relax and look ahead on the road with confidence. So why is it that when I think about driving, I freak out, but never have I lost control while actually behind the wheel?

Back in my teenage years I wrote about how time seems fast and slow to me at different times in the year. Recently, I've experienced this odd feeling where I feel like time passes by slowly, and I want it to pass by more quickly, but at the same I want to be at this point in time forever. The contradictory feeling of being not completely satisfied with the stage of my life and wanting more, combined with the uncertainty and perplexity that my life right now is probably the best I can ever have: free house, free food, stability, privileged, low risk. I want to be 21 forever, but I also want to be 22 and better, and 23 and even better off.

Age is really just numbers, but society has put so much meaning into these numbers.

We're happy, free, confused, and lonely at the same time
It's miserable and magical.
[...]
But I'm feeling 22
- Taylor Swift, 22

So is there something wrong with me if I'm not happy, free, confused and lonely?

I had a conversation with a friend and he complained to me that he hasn't been able to find a good book recently; on one hand he's fed up with sappy teenage story, on the other he's not ready to dive into the life problems that adult fiction overstates. So where do we fit in? Where's a book for a 21 year old with tens of thousands of dollars in student loans and an uncertain future? A future that everyone promises to be magical and dream-fulfilling, but could easily be as mundane as Dilbert's cubical life.

The new found freedom of the 20's to me is this weird vacuum where I'm supposed to have reached a stage of some sort, a huge milestone, one that I have been looking forward to since 16: enough money to go to New York without parents, car to myself, no one nagging about my clothes, enough confidence to tell gossipy hater to go away. But it feels more like, 'now what'. Should I own more make up now? Should I have had many boyfriends? A huge closet? A collection of lingerie? A travel diary filled with exotic photos? A trip to Vegas where I burn money on chances?

Then I realize this whole concept of age thing is bogus. Maybe it made sense for puberty, because that biological change is unstoppable. But there's no reason I can't live the rest of my life in whatever order I like. I don't have to have kids before I'm 30, or even before 40. If I can't have kids naturally I can always adopt, have a surrogate mother, even giving birth after 40 is possible with modern medicine. I don't have to marry and live the rest of my life with the father of kids. I don't have to have 1 career; I can have 5, or 6. I don't have to have a cubicle job. I don't have to buy a house at 30. I can travel the world now, or at 60. I don't have to get my degrees now; I can do it when I'm 30 and wiser. This whole idea that one's 20's is the most important time is outdated. Every age is important; it's never too late or too early to start things. Sure, if I start gymnastics at 40 I probably can't bend over my back like a 10 year old, but that won't stop me from trying and enjoying it.

So for now, I won't freak out about society telling me to get a job at 22 and making the right career choice right now. It's probably like the feeling I have about driving. I might have nightmares about being unemployed and useless, but once I am driving my future, I would feel in control, empowered, able.


Comments

  1. Exactly my feeling! The feeling which I hope will always be present no matter how old I am.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Painted Door - Sinclair Ross (from personal journal)

(Originally posted on 10/1/2009) ( Footsteps in snow. S orry, can't find the photo taken by Wayne R. Bilenduke that was printed in my book. Alternative photo.) I think this is by far the story I have to spend the longest time reading. Mr. Guraliuk was right, this is a very sleep-inducing "short" story. "It goes on and on and on and on… like forever". But, paradoxically, that's what makes it such a brilliant short story. When you read Sinclair Ross's lines, you feel cold. You can imagine the coldness of hard window glass pressing against your fingers as you look out to the freezing white snow-covered endless landscape and long for the person you love to arrive. You can feel your eyelids heavy as you watch the time go by; your heart heavy with sadness and loneliness but still not letting go of that weak hope, the only hope that keeps you still alive amidst the brutal coldness of winter. Of course if you've never been through a cold, white and l...

transience

  Recently I heard a youtuber (here be barr) describe New York as a "transient" place. Not many people, especially young people, who move to New York decide to, or can, stay for a long time. They live in the big city for some years, then after experiencing the hype, parties, concerts, or whatever they wish, they move away to buy a house, get married, have children... That made me think about how transient all my life has been. Each city I move to, each apartment I move into, each job I'm offered, is a transient place. My goal has never been to hold onto any of those things, but rather to jump to the next. Which is why I never feel like I belong anywhere, but also I don't have homesickness because the definition of 'home' is so fleeting.  There are feelings that resemble being home. Like on the days I have no upcoming deadline or appointment, I just do nothing and stay indoors. Or like when I am so self-confident that I leave work until the last minute knowing ...