Lately my life has been consumed by one thing and one thing only: numbers. The numbers on the scale, the numbers on my grades, the numbers in my bank account, and the number of my age. While I wanted my grade point average from my second semester to rise like the numbers on the scale did after finishing my first year of college (we don't always get what we want in life), I realized that I was "only turning 19" this year, how boring, and not to mention that all my money had been sucked up by my education for the past year. I started to become so absorbed with the numbers in my life; it's all I could talk about. I didn't notice how obsessed I was until I realized I repeated the same two sentences regarding my weight and grades to my best friend and my mom every time that I talked to them. That's when I decided that they're all just numbers.
The numbers on the scale have never been my friend. For as long as I could remember they were always higher than all of my friends' numbers. Even when I was in the best shape that I have ever been in, I thought I was heavy. It took going to college and stepping on the scale twice a week at the gym to quickly realize that I should have quit the number game years ago. I could eat the healthiest options that my school's cafeteria offered (which was a constant diet of eggs in the morning, salads with balsamic dressing for lunch, and a meat and vegetable for dinner) and working out almost every day of the week and still I gained weight. The scale always won the battle which made me retaliate towards the end of my second semester.
The numbers on my grades began to fall as the second semester began to close. I spent two and a half hours, three times a week in the library solely doing homework and even then I had to dedicate time for more homework in my dorm room at night. I had professors that graded me harder than I have ever been graded on subjects that I was great at and subjects that I was not so great at. No matter how much time I would study or work on papers the grades didn't always reflect the time put into them. When I got my final grades for the semester I was disappointed to see that, once again, the numbers won, and I did not get the grades that I had anticipated.
The numbers in my bank account can be explained by one word: college. Yes, I could have stayed home to save money, but I know what I want and I'm going to get it. The money that my schooling costs may frustrate me at times, yet I am excited for the opportunities that my future will hold because I am receiving an awesome education.
Finally, the number that is my age is nothing special. I am turning 19-years-old in the summer, and it does not seem like anything special. I have already finished a year of college, and I'm already a legal adult. I can already serve alcohol as a waitress, buy lottery tickets, and work at Starbucks. It's just another year and number. Once again, what does it matter?
Instead of continuously looking at the negative connotations that all of the numbers in my life carried I asked what each set of numbers really means about me. I came to one conclusion: they mean next to nothing.
Just because the numbers on the scale aren't particularly low doesn't mean I am terribly unhealthy. Yeah, they're not perfect, but I'm more worried about eating well, exercising regularly, and challenging myself mentally and physically to become a better me. Just because my grades aren't as high as I wish doesn't take away from all the hard work and hours that I put into the papers and group assignments I worked on. Sometimes you'll have hard professors, but maybe those are the ones you learn the most from. I still have three years to maintain a GPA that I am proud of, and I can learn from the mistakes that I made in my previous classes to maybe work even harder. Just because the numbers in my bank account are low doesn't mean I'm suffering. I have amazing parents who would help me wherever and whenever I am in need, I'm working for the summer at two jobs, and I am earning an incredible education in the mean time. Just because I feel like 19 isn't a special age doesn't mean I won't grow even more as a person. I've come to realize that 19 is another one of those ages that helps you slip into adulthood slowly while you try to learn the way of the world.
All these things are overlooked when you focus on the numbers. Sure, not all numbers are bad, and some people might not pay as much attention or ever care about this kind of stuff like me. I do know that numbers don't define you; not on the scale, not on your grades, not in your bank account, not in your age, and not in anything else. As long as we're healthy, happy, living, experiencing, and loving, I'd say we've all got pretty good lives.
