WEB EXCLUSIVE

I turned 16 last week.

Yes, right before the hurricane.

Which is why everyone seemed to doubt me when I said, “My 16th birthday wasn’t that eventful.”

People gaped. They gasped. Their eyes went wide.

“But it’s supposed to be one of the best days of your life!”

“The hurricane probably took away some of that magic.”

“You know, when I was 16, it was the best year of my life. Don’t take it for granted now.”

“Didn’t you have a big get-together with all of your friends? You must’ve partied into the night!”

“These millennials, never satisfied. No matter how much we give them, they think milestones like this are no big deal.”

But it wasn’t like anything they said.

I wasn’t shrugging off some big event. There hardly was an event for my birthday. I could not invite friends to “party.” The closing of placess that resulted because of Hurricane Irma were announced after the day was nearly over. And it was far from the best day of my life.

That’s because it was on a Thursday. Now, my fellow high school students are probably nodding sympathetically, but some adults may not understand. Let me explain further: it was a school day. This meant that I went to school like normal, had piles of work like normal and had a few tests to take and study for like normal.

Hence, the hyped, epic, Sweet Sixteen landmark event so often described in the media did not occur. My suspicions of this non-currency had been steadily building up in the years, months and days leading up to my 16th birthday. Yet, watching movies, reading books and hearing of such events, I can still remember how excited 8-year-old me was to be 16 one day.

I would be tall! Smart! Stylish! Popular! I would be able to drive! Cook! Travel! It seemed like my entire world would be revolutionized by such a simple day.

Obviously, that didn’t happen. When I turned 16, no magical transformation occurred. I haven’t even gotten my driver’s license yet. But these overly high expectations did still lead to a little bit of a let-down.

Because part of 8-year-old me has stuck with the current me, I genuinely hoped something magical and movie-esque would occur, although the more rational parts of my mind knew better.

If I hadn’t set such a high bar, maybe I wouldn’t have been so let down. Maybe if the media and the people around me hadn’t convinced me that the age of 16 was so spectacular, I wouldn’t have felt a twinge of disappointment.

The worst part is that, even after people have gone through a mediocre 16th, they continue to believe it was still a magical day. They accept a culture of elaborate, life-changing Sweet Sixteens. They persuade young people to accept this culture. They persuade themselves to accept this culture.

It’s time for that to change. No kid should feel disappointed on her birthday.