The Turning of the Tide

So, it happened, I turned twenty, or is it 20? Have I gotten so old that I'm allowed to abbreviate my age in numerals now? I suppose the setting of my 20th birthday was a fitting one, you see, not only was it was the first time I'd ever been away from home on my birthday but it was the first time I'd ever been away from my family and friends too. I turned a year older in another country, celebrating with a group of people (20 of them coincidentally, as you can see) I'd met only three days before and called home only to have my mom forget it was my birthday. I think I may have reached that point where you no longer look forward to your birthday anymore, although being showered with presents happens to be one of my favorite ways to ease the pain of an emotional void. Everyone always makes such a big deal about 21, but for someone who cares as little about being able to legally purchase alcohol as I do, this is really it. Oh I suppose there are still a few other milestones left, I mean I still can't run for Congress for example, gamble in Las Vegas, rent a car, or get the senior discounts at Grandma's Kitchen, but for all intensive purposes, I'm an adult. Twenty just makes it sound so official. As far as the law was concerned I came of age two years ago, but twenty was always the mental marker I had constructed. When you're 18 you're still a teenager, and generally, people still think of you as such, not as a full-fledged adult. But now, I feel as if I'm suddenly being held to a higher standard, like I can't be a kid anymore, I have to be some boring mature tea-drinking man, and I'm not sure how much of that feeling is just that mental prestige I've built up about the age and how much is the real deal.


I was called a man the other day, just plain old man, without the prefix 'young' in front of it. I was riding the bus, standing in the aisle because all the seats were full, when a boy of three or four leaned over to his mom and whispered, "mommy, why is that man standing up?" That young boy is a whole generation behind me, I'm no longer part of the youth designation, the only one I've ever known. Physically and mentally I don't feel any different, I don't feel wiser or aged, I just want to be the same unique guy I've always been, I don't want to feel like I can't be myself anymore simply because the calendar designates it's time. But I feel like pieces of my current self, my affinity for goofing off, playing foursquare, making crude jokes, laughing at Will Ferrell, will now be frowned upon due to my age. Nonetheless, I don't plan on changing to conform to these half-imagined standards; I just wish I didn't feel their condescending presence. As long as I can look after myself that's the real definition of maturity right? So in one sense I'm still not grown up as I'll be largely dependent on my parents still for at least the next two years, but at the same time I don't think my personality will change once I become my own breadwinner.


Just to clarify, I'm not totally pessimistic about my future; as far as I'm concerned I'm barely getting started. I don't feel like the party-hardy bartender who told me the night of my birthday that it's all downhill after next year. It's just that next year and the year after that when my birthday rolls around, I'll miss that pure joy that comes from your birthday when you're a kid, I don't think that feeling can ever be reclaimed or remade authentically. So perhaps there lies the mark of a grown man, one who is no longer so innocent (or ignorant) that they can experience the pure ecstasy of a world seen in black and white. Well, in that case, for better or worse, I suppose that would make me an adult. Look out world here I come.