you're only 19

the soundtrack of young adulthood 𝜗ৎ

“Got your whole life ahead of you, you’re only nineteen”

~Olivia Rodrigo: Teenage Dream ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

I can’t believe I am almost 20. I won’t be a teenager anymore. That sentence feels so thrilling yet terrifying at the same time. There is something beautiful about being 19—the innocence of girlhood and the silent responsibility of adulthood. It’s the age where everything feels like a first, but it’s not anymore. Sometimes it still feels like I am still holding my own hand—how to be fully present with myself and remember my worth. Turning twenty feels like it’s the end of an era. It feels like closing the end of a glittery, messy novel. A novel filled with late night drives, heartbreak, girly memories with my friends, and nostalgia wrapped with a bow on top. Nineteen taught me a lot about who I was becoming, but twenty feels like I am ready to meet her.

Track one: the soft launch of adulthood ⋆ 𐙚 ̊

I no longer asked my mom to do my laundry. Or to help with my homework. I did not need rides to school anymore. Is this what it meant being an adult? It feels scary and sometimes it feels like I am drowning. But it is also so beautiful. I started living on my own, in a dorm away from home. It sounds like the hum of my mini fridge and the inserting of a key. Independence doesn’t hit like a train all at once—it comes in tiny little victories. Buying my own groceries, putting up lights in my dorm room, doing my own laundry, surviving a bad day without calling your mom. It’s learning to be proud of how hard i am trying every day.

Track two: The boy you meet at 19 ⋆ 𐙚 ̊

I was technically 18, but the age doesn’t matter. But it still plays on a loop. The boy I should of forgotten still ligers like a song stuck in my head. No matter how hard I try to push that song away. I learned that letting go doesn’t happen in just one moment—sometimes it months of skipping the same song until you don’t need too. I remember I couldn’t listen to “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” for months because of a boy. I couldn’t watch “10 Things I Hate Abt You” because of a boy. But then I learned that closure doesn’t come with a conversation. It is about not needing one to be satisfied, it’s about learning to be so happy with yourself that his apology means nothing.

Track three: The Glow Up after Heartbreak ⋆ 𐙚 ̊

This is where I learned to love myself again. I dyed my hair, I changed my clothes, and started laughing louder. It was when my spark came back. Where I learned to fall back in love with myself. When I could look in the mirror without tears flooding the room. I began dressing for the version of myself that deserves to be admired. I learned to love the quiet confidence that came after my heartbreak. Not because of the boy, but because I stopped making myself feel small for a boy who couldn’t meet me there.

Track four: The Chorus of Girlhood ⋆ 𐙚 ̊

This is where I found my sisters. Not by blood, but by love. It’s the laughter coming from my dorm room and the hum of my friends telling me the same story over and over again. It feels like belonging— the soft rhythm of my friends who make me feel safe just by existing. My girls have become the soundtrack under every special moment. The ones who held me when I couldn’t stop crying, the ones who made me laugh, the ones who are my hype women, and the ones that remind me that love doesn’t have to be romantic in order for it to be real. Girlhood is a harmony of voices that makes the hardest days a little better. It’s the choir that sings for you in a room full of silence.

Track five: The academic weapon ⋆ 𐙚 ̊

This is where I question my path. I cried over grades, I questioned my major, and wondered if I was even on the right path. It shifts to lo-fi beats and the sound of my computer at 2am. Then it’s being burnt out, not having the energy to look at a computer or finish my assignments. It turns into questioning if your path is right. But that is what being a young adult is for—figuring it out. I learned that I don’t need to have everything figured out. I’m still young and I am only 19.

Track six: Beneath my journal pages ⋆ 𐙚 ̊

This is where my pen hits the paper at 1:30am. Where my journal is filled of late night confessions and poetry. The place where I told the truth i couldn’t say out loud. It’s when I wrote about missing people I shouldn’t and dreams I was scared of coming true. But somewhere in between the pages of my journal, i found peace. The silence starts to feel peaceful instead of loud. It finally feels like breathing again after holding my breathe for years. It’s asking for a table for one, and realizing I am not lonely. It’s deleting a text paragraph I don’t need to send. Nineteen taught me that healing isn’t linear; there are moments where the storm hits and other days where the sun is shining.

Track seven: Peace looks pretty on me ⋆ 𐙚 ̊

I wake up, pick the prettiest outfit, do my makeup, play music while I am getting ready and it feels like enough. I stopped chasing after chaos and started chasing calm. It feels like when I can finally call myself home, and feel happy with the home I made within myself. I wear lip gloss cause it makes me feel pretty. I walk slower now, i laugh easier, I can wake up in the morning feeling positive for a new day.

Track eight: Almost twenty ⋆ 𐙚 ̊

It’s strange to think I won’t be a teenager anymore. There is something so final about it. It’s like finishing a book and putting it on the shelf as a memory of the feeling of reading that book. Nineteen was a mix of magical and messy—-first heartbreaks, first time living on my own, first time learning to love me. And it taught me a lot about sisterhood, independence, and softness. It was the year that taught me that growing up does not happen all at once. It happens in the quiet moments that sneak up on you.

I am not the same girl I was at 19. Or 18. And I haven’t grown into who I am meant to be yet—but I am getting there. Everyday is a new opportunity for me to figure out who I am, what I like, and what I don’t. I am still learning, still figuring it out, still dreaming, but I am doing it as a new me. The girl I am now is proud of how far she has come.

Maybe twenty will bring love, change or chaos—but whatever it may be, I am excited for what is about to come. I just hope it brings me peace. Because for the first time, peace feels like enough.

Love always,

~emily ⋆ 𐙚 ̊