The big milestones in my life don’t feel real to me.
I remember sitting with my friends at the Sweet Shop one Friday on my friend’s 18th birthday. She was glowing with her new title. An adult. The Big 18. She was telling us about crying the night before over her childhood being over, and how she wasn’t dreading turning 18 — just sad that a distinct era in her life was over. And I remember being ready to experience that myself, in three weeks when my birthday was to come.
Then the night before my 18th birthday (which I spent working on my senior project for AP Lit) came, and none of those strong emotions arrived. No matter how many times I tried to register the milestone awaiting me, I could not process that my childhood was over.
The next morning, I excitedly anticipated the presents and cake, the hangouts with friends and celebrations with family. The big pink balloons in my living room and the candles on my cake both spelled “18,” but I didn’t feel any different. Even though the world now considered me an adult, I still felt like the same 17 year old girl waiting for the sign that would tell me I was grown up.
My friends asked me at lunch what I’d spend my day doing and what it felt like to be 18. The first question was easy: I planned to buy a lottery ticket, a tradition within my friend group. But the second left me questioning why I didn’t feel different. Maybe the responsibilities that were awaiting me and the new chapter of independence I was entering was so big I didn’t want to accept it.
Turning eighteen was the first of the big changes I would go through as I prepared to leave for college. Senior skip day and graduation were to follow, but becoming an adult came first; it was a shift that I wasn’t ready for.
Another milestone this semester was my senior night for track. Posing for photos with teammates from the past four years, it still didn’t hit me that this would be the last time I would run a race around the Los Altos track, wearing the royal blue uniform I was so proud of. In the moment, the race just felt like any other meet. I kept waiting for some kind of finish line that felt like an ending for me, for something to ‘click’ inside and for me to feel different.
Since then, I’ve realized that true growth doesn’t suddenly announce itself at a milestone. It happens in the quiet moments — the miles where I truly became a runner or the days I matured without realizing it. That’s what I’ve learned to celebrate rather than craving the sudden transformation that never actually occurs.
The truth is, I remain unprepared for the future. I don’t know how to say goodbye to everything I’ve ever known and the version of myself I’ve become here. And when I do, I know it won’t hit me right away that my life is never going to be the same again.
Because everything I’ve ever known is about to change. And it doesn’t feel real — but I’m starting to think that’s okay.
