enough because you don’t have a Ph.D and you’ve only lived on this planet for two decades. Your opinions are unwelcome at the table because they are “not yet developed.” Your parents send you off to a small college town where everyone knows each other, and it feels like every relationship has an expiration date. But a 20-year-old can see more death and despair, and deal with more mental and physical hardships than most imagine. That was 20 years old — a cold apocalyptic winter followed by a hot cruel summer. But at 20 years old, I learned my worth and stopped taking each day of my life for granted. I stopped caring about what others said and thought of me. I came out, which was a big deal for me. I learned what I was passionate about and what I want to do with my life. I learned more about the world and dedicated myself to making it a better place. I learned that everyone comes into your life for a
reason, and although they can leave you with pain and anguish, the most important thing is that you take a lesson away from each relationship. I learned that you need to hold on to those who have your best interest in mind — those people who cut out time in their day to call you or text you or send you funny tweets to make you laugh. I learned that happiness and fulfilment come from within, and you must love the person you see in the mirror (or the selfie) above all else. I haven’t decided yet if I’ll miss my 20th year. I guess it all depends on what my 21st year brings. But I learned a lot during this orbit around the sun, and it’s enough to keep me orbiting around again.
THE MIAMI STUDENT MAGAZINE, FALL 2019
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