I like being 22 because everyone is always telling me how young I am. How accomplished I am for being “only” 22. I can get away with so much more and just blame it on my youth. Any mistakes I make, risks I take or flaws I have I can easily make my age the scapegoat. And I’m sure I can get away with this for the next few years, especially because of how young I look, but I will hit an age where I “should know better.” When it’s no longer acceptable to have 3 day benders of tequila shots and sliders or to fall for the bad boy or to spend a whole paycheck on..something I can’t even remember.
I like the freedom of having all my decisions be selfish. In each moment, I can do whatever I want without being responsible to anyone or having anyone be dependent on me. If I fail or make a mess, then those problems are mine and mine alone (except for the friends who help to pick up the pieces along the way). I can live fully or not at all and not take any judgment for whichever direction I choose. I can attend every beer pong tournament, brooklyn warehouse party and after after party or sit in a dark room listening to Adele. I can make the same mistake as many times as it takes to learn the lesson. I can run late, whether I’m dressed fashionably or not.
It’s comforting to have a cushion of a number of years ahead of me. That even if I’m not exactly where I want to be in life, next year will be better – and so will all the years past that. That whatever I’ve screwed up or needs fixing in my life…well, there’s still time left for that. I’m sad to know the age will come where I feel guiltier about my choices because I’ll feel I should be at a certain place that maybe I’m not quite at yet. I want to hold on to being 22 for as long as I can. I want to jump blindly, love foolishly and make my time worth remembering.