“All the variety, all the charm, all the beauty of life are made up of light and shade.” – Leo Tolstoy

Ah, birthdays. They’re the one time each year the world is forced to acknowledge our existence via text messages and/or meaningful gifts. Naturally, they’re something we all look forward to and turning 21 is something I couldn’t wait to do. It would be a Friday, which meant there were no worries about staying up late. It would also be the last day of term, which meant I could really party guilt-free. It would be perfect.

Well, that’s what I thought. Sadly for me, I made the mistake of listening to a few too many cooks (or is that kooks?) tell me what my birthday was supposed to be like instead of taking the time to make up my own mind. All I wanted was a simple night out with my friends; nothing entirely fancy or over the top. But everyone else felt I needed to turn the occasion into something super-special. It had to be huge, lest I regret it for the rest of my life.

And so came the planning. First, I had to pick a venue not so “la-di-dah” it would make anyone uncomfortable but also not so regular that our drinks risked getting spiked. Once that was established came deciding on a menu that would cater to everyone’s taste while keeping me out of sequestration. And finally, I had to create a guest list intimate enough to avoid me neglecting any one person but diverse enough so no sub-clique would reign supreme. It was turning into a diplomatic nightmare akin to the seating arrangements at the U.N.

In the end, my big night out was a monumental flop; not because it was a particularly shoddy shindig (or because only four people showed up). It simply didn’t measure up to my expectations. Having a lofty idea of what to expect meant whatever little thing didn’t quite fit into the grand plan detracted from the night. I couldn’t appreciate all the well wishes and free drinks because they simply didn’t matter. Instead, I was fixated on the slow service at the restaurant and a surprisingly scarce dance floor after that. I lost the plot entirely.

I managed to, um, “walk” away from that experience having learned three things. Firstly, with unrealistic expectations, disappointment comes standard. Secondly, too much sushi means no room for cheesecake. And finally, listening to other people isn’t always in our best interest. To them, turning 21 was about going out, getting wasted, and waking up the next day to live yet another year as the exact same person. That just wasn’t me.

To me, birthdays have always meant something different and turning 21 was no exception. This was the perfect time for me to look back at my life and appreciate how far I’d come. It was the perfect time for me to acknowledge who I was and be grateful for all the experiences that had ultimately come to define me. It was about looking forward to life as a fully-fledged adult instead of stressing over a stupid theme.

In any case, my life went on. It felt great to wake up knowing I’d be starting a whole new chapter in my life. It was also great to finally decide that letting other people influence me like that would not be something I’d allow to happen anymore. I’d listen to what they had to say but ultimately make up my own mind. Life’s too short to spend pleasing people who think they know you and are constantly bent on telling you what you’re “supposed” to do or how you’re “supposed” to feel. As grown-ups, we should know better.

“Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion. I myself prefer to laugh, since there is less cleaning up to do afterward.” – Kurt Vonnegut

(Eugene Yiga is the editor of Varsity Blah and his latest book is available free, exclusively from www.varsityblah.com/about)