“You're Only 19": Saying Goodbye To My "Teenage Dream”
Birthdays used to bring me so much joy. Whenever I was asked what my favorite holiday was, I’d always say, “My birthday, of course!” It was always the highlight of my year––my parents would take me on trips, I would have fun little birthday parties, everything was perfect. Gradually, each birthday has started to feel less like a holiday and more like a day of dread. Another year over, just like that. Another thing I said I would have accomplished by now that I never got around to. Another reminder that the world doesn’t see me as a child anymore, carefree and endearingly naive. It isn’t even the day itself that’s so bad for me, but the anticipation. Last year:
To prevent myself from fully spiraling in the limited number of words I can write (and to spare you, dear reader), I thought it would be interesting to examine the experience of growing up––specifically of turning 19, which will be mid-November of this year––through a certain song’s lyrics. When I first heard it, Olivia Rodrigo’s “Teenage Dream” from her sophomore album Guts immediately hit me like a truck––and at that time I was only 17. The melancholy that had started seeping into my “special days” was explained in words that I understood, that I felt. It instantly became one of my favorites, and least favorites, because of its brutal (wink, wink) honesty.
“When am I gonna stop being wise beyond my years and just start being wise?”
I feel this lyric in my soul. As someone who grew up surrounded more by adults than by peers, everyone would rave to my parents about how mature and, someone said this word-for-word, wise beyond my years I was. I could handle writing about and interacting with serious subjects. I’ve always had an interest in the macabre and darkness in general, so this certainly checks out in that respect. However, with each passing year, and especially on my 18th birthday, I have felt more removed from the title of the “wise ingenue.” I no longer feel much more “mature” than my peers––in fact, in many ways, I feel like I’m lagging behind them.
“When am I gonna stop being a pretty young thing to guys?”
Society makes women feel like as they age, they lose their worth. As if their entire existence is dependent on their physical attractiveness. This wasn’t something I personally feared until recently––will I be considered less beautiful, less valuable, as I enter my 30s, 40s, 50s, 60s, and beyond? Does that mean I should take advantage of my youth before it slips away? What does “taking advantage” even mean in this context? Am I wasting the time society sees me as something shiny and new, or did that time already come and go? Well, looks like even the word limit can’t keep me from spiraling, after all.
“When am I gonna stop being great for my age and just start being good?”
This is similar to the first lyric in that it addresses the changing ways I’m perceived and how I perceive myself. I did a lot of singing, acting, dancing, the whole nine yards, when I was younger. I took a certain pride in it, especially when I was constantly around adults who would smile and tell me I was talented. It made me feel valuable. But now I’m aware that I won’t always be the youngest one in the crowd anymore. I won’t be taken under anyone’s wing and marveled about how young I am. I may still be good, but I won’t be great. Now, I’m more of an equal––don’t get me wrong, there are a lot of things about that I enjoy. I’ll have more opportunities to be one of them and not constantly known as “the youngest”. Is this way of thinking healthy? No. But when I was raised in these constant situations, it can be hard to change that way of thinking. I’m trying.
“When will it stop being cool to be quietly misunderstood?”
I can’t use the age card or a lack of immaturity anymore amid a conflict. I can’t reasonably live my angsty teenager moments anymore, no matter how much I still feel like doing so. In everyone’s eyes, I’m an adult, and it’s my responsibility to control myself, even if emotionally I’m still that 15-year-old who lashes out sometimes. It isn’t fair to those around me, and this is one aspect of growing up I think is important, even if it’s hard sometimes.
“So I’ll blow out the candles, happy birthday to me. Got your whole life ahead of you, you’re only 19.”
This is the one that gets me. I am only (almost) 19, which is still considered fairly young. Logically, I know I have time to figure things out, even if sometimes it feels like I’m behind on…everything. Yet there’s still this overwhelming pressure to do just that––to have everything figured out, or at least have some concrete plan for how I want my life to go. When people point out that I’m still young, I can’t help but think: at what point will I not be considered young enough to not have my whole life ahead of me? To not have “endless possibilities”? When I’m 22? When I’m 25? When I’m 28? 30? 35?
If you’re looking for even more growing-up/existential dread/birthday-appropriate songs, I have some suggestions.
“Nothing New” by Taylor Swift, featuring Phoebe Bridgers.
“Never Grow Up” by Taylor Swift.
“Getting Older” by Billie Eilish.
“Slipping Through My Fingers” by ABBA.
Honorable mention: “In My Life” by the Beatles. I had to include some Beatles and mention a song that isn’t completely sad.
My birthday is no longer my favorite holiday, but maybe that’s a true sign of growing up. Maybe they don’t have to be a bad thing as we get older, but rather a time for reflection.
As “Teenage Dream” concludes, “They all say that it gets better…the more you grow. They all say that it gets better…but what if I don’t?”
I truly hope I do. That’s my biggest birthday wish for this year.
