When I was 15, one of my best friends, Krissy Engh, and I decided to celebrate our "Sweet 16th" birthday party together. Seeing that we were separated by one day (she being the older), it made perfect sense. Thus, we gathered 100 of our friends at a local establishment, had a DJ and partied like it was 1989 (it was!).
As we were dancing, I looked around and thought to myself, "This may be the happiest day of my life." Why wouldn't it be? 16, young, full of life, and with your friends. Who could ask for more?
But it didn't start that way...as a kid we had a tendency to move a lot for a lot of reasons. I once tried to count and think I came up with around 20 different places I lived between 2nd grade and 5th grade and an additional 20 between 9th and 12th. It was middle school where I found some stability as I went to live with my grandparents in New York. However, after 8th grade, I decided to move back to Florida to be with my mom and start high school. But as most people realize, middle school changes a lot of things. The friends I had in Florida when I left had moved on, formed new friendships, and so I was starting over...
My freshman year was hell. Sophomore year didn't start much better. Then I started making some friends. Krissy was one of them. We had a lot in common and found solace in each other's friendship. Six months later we were celebrating the biggest birthday of our young lives. We both had made a lot of friendships and things were looking up as I was elected class president for the upcoming junior year.
It was sometime that night as we were dancing that I decided I never wanted to be older than I was then. I was scared of what being older would bring. Not just the wrinkles, flabby tummy, and other ailments, but the idea that my life could be like some of the older people that I knew--some had children who didn't appreciate them; others had never quite fulfilled the promise of their abilities, and yet others were just drinking their life away. Or maybe I worried that if things did go well and I lived the American Dream of marriage, kids, etc, that I could still end up like, say, my grandparents who worried constantly about their kids and their well-being to the point that it became the obsession of their later years.
What was there to look forward to--it all seemed sad? I wanted to remember my 16th year and live in it forever. I was young, cute, and had a lot of friends. It would never be the same again, I was sure of it.
21 years later I still remember that night so well. I recently saw Krissy and she (like me in many ways) hasn't changed much. We both look younger than our age; we both are happy with our partners in life; and we are both fairly successful despite our backgrounds. But I still am terrified of aging. I don't do it well.
In 21 years I have lost many people who meant the world to me. I have had my ups and downs with weight. I have tremendous student loan debt for receiving multiple degrees that have led me to a job that doesn't ultimately pay enough for me to live the life I should be able to. Am I miserable? No. Am I envious of being 16 again? Yes...many times.
It's not as easy to make friends like it was then. I can't quite run like I used to. I look in the mirror and sometimes wonder where that kid with all the idealism went. I don't think I have changed that much, but I have. I love my life...but I also miss my life. It's difficult reconciling one's life. Would I change my life right now? No. Am I regretful? Not really. But can I get stuck in moments I can't get out of like this memory? Yes. And that's the part that is probably the scariest of all...
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