I don’t self-identify as a fan of Grey’s Anatomy, but, hey, I’m only human. We all have our faults. But lately, I have found myself living for the tension between two hot, fictional doctors (Christina Yang and Owen Hunt) because their lives are way steamier than the tea I make in my dorm room (update: while searching for an image of the two characters for this article, I spoiled their relationship for myself… I’m fine… they get married?!… I’m definitely not including a picture now). My life now consists of me convincing myself that if my episode of Grey’s runs a minute over the hour-mark on my clock, then I should just watch another one. Because hey, that next hour is basically wasted.
While I will not be pursuing a career in medicine like my hot, fictional doctor friends, I will be turning 21. My birthday falls in that prime time just as good ol’ reading period rolls around in December. Everyone knows about the societal (magical?) significance of the 21st birthday, so I’ll spare you the spiel. I am not so much focused on what the day will be like (probably will just be me, in bed, spooning my 20-page paper), as I am with the next 39 days leading up to it. It’s just that, as Halloween came to a close and November 1st became a reality, I had a Netflix are you still watching? kind of moment.
I realized I had been treating my college existence like I was watching Grey’s Anatomy. And like an episode running into the next hour, I would let all the bad and ~emotional~ vibes carry over to the rest my life, too. I have allowed myself to waste entire days just because I overslept and was consequently feeling “off.” I may have convinced myself that October was an “off” month, just because I struggled to accept the reality of my workload during the first week as everyone else fell into the rhythm of pumpkin spice lattes (and somehow believed that all the other weeks would be the same). And I don’t want to treat my life like an hour gone to waste! I’m going to be 21 goddamn it! I don’t want to turn 21 and feel like I missed it. No amount of Grey’s is worth that (or lol is it??).
So, naturally, I freaked out. While angstily walking to Eastside Market the other day, I probably teared up four times thinking about how this was not the cool college lady I wanted to be! I told myself that I had 39 days before my birthday to do life right, which probably meant that I should go get a choppy-edgy haircut, steam some broccoli, and feel cool and healthy. (I didn’t do this).
Here’s what I think being 21 means. Real 21-year-olds, please, look away. I am probably (definitely) misinformed.
- I should be wearing scarves, lots of them. Clean scarves, with no soup stains, that probably match my earrings and compliment my eye color. They should also have those little pom-pom tassels, even though I don’t like them, because they dress up any outfit and everyone knows it, but I don’t!
- I should own pants that fit me because I should be coming into my own and understanding what works for my body. I shouldn’t have to unzip my pants on long car rides or constantly be pulling them up as I exit the Ratty. I should slip into my pants like a princess getting dressed by woodland creatures, but I don’t!!
- I should have things that are totally me, like a potted plant on my windowsill or a collection of colorful pens in a sparkly pencil case. I should have lucky underwear that I wear to exams or put cinnamon on everything because Caroline is 21 years old and she knows that she loves cinnamon by now, but I don’t!!!
- I should schedule time to work out at least three times a week, because by now I should understand that endorphins are good for my mental health and I feel genuinely better when I care for my body, but I don’t!!!!
- I should be wearing the skirts that I have in my closet because let’s be real, my legs are never going to look this good again. I should also probably be wearing them with tights, because tights are in and flattering, but I don’t!!!!!
There are so many other things, but now seems like a good time to psychoanalyze myself:
*Caroline to Caroline* I hear a lot of “should’s” and “don’t’s.” What do you think that says about you?
…That I care way too much about other people’s perception of myself and prioritize society’s standards of success and female beauty over my own. The realization was… important… but nevertheless felt like a women’s magazine headline or celebrity’s Instagram post. Still, there’s something to be said for coming to understand things 👏 on 👏 your 👏 own.
So, yes, I’ve gone through the panic, examined my soul like a Grey’s Anatomy surgeon, and reassured myself that I am not the monster I sometimes perceive myself to be. On the other side of this chaos, I’ve decided that maybe I don’t need to transform myself in 39 days. Instead, I need to find ways to change my definition of what a 21-year-old woman is For Myself.
Maybe I don’t wear clean, pom-pom scarves, but I do wear a pretty gross one that shields my acne, which is as me as it gets. I may not own pants that fit me, but that is why some force of nature created leggings, and if I wear a long enough shirt, no one cares. Okay, so I don’t go to the gym like I want to, but that doesn’t mean I can’t take advantage of what’s left of fall to take some long walks and maybe do some yoga in my room. As for the skirt thing, that just will never happen.
Image via Caroline Zerilli. Emoji via.