REFLECTIONS AT TWENTY-TWO
- avapravlik
- 1 day ago
- 2 min read
Who I was, who I am, and and where I’m going
By: Ava Pravlik
Credit: @Sallu on Pinterest
One year ago, I wrote an article about turning 21. A year that began with elaborate birthday parties and many nights at Midtown is ending with networking calls, a self-imposed midnight curfew and more hours spent on LinkedIn than Snapchat. As my 22nd birthday approaches in a couple of weeks, I’ve found myself reflecting on the growth that just 12 months can bring — and how different this birthday feels from those past.
Twenty-one was celebratory by default; it arrived with the promise of more freedom without much added responsibility. Twenty-two is quieter, less chaotic and a little more mysterious. I’m stepping into a chapter that’s harder to define, standing somewhere between who I was when college began and who I hope to be when I cross the graduation stage.
This year marks the end of more than just college; it’s the end of the clearly structured path carved out for me by my family and society. Going forward, I no longer have a built-in blueprint for what I should do, where I should go or who I should be.
I’m no longer the freshman who thought four years was an eternity, the sophomore who felt invincible or the junior who finally felt like she belonged. The future is undefined and my options are limitless, but with that excitement and sense of possibility comes a quiet fear of making the wrong choice.
This reflection has prompted me to slow down and notice the things I used to rush past or take for granted: football games, walks through campus, late-night talks with my roommates and the small routines I’ve built without realizing it. Everything suddenly feels like a “last,” even when it isn’t one yet.
But maybe that’s what 22 is supposed to be — the age where I finally understand that my life is something I am actively shaping rather than something I’m merely passing through. Maybe nostalgia and excitement can coexist. Maybe opportunity is always accompanied by a little fear.
Turning 22 doesn’t feel glamorous; it feels honest, vulnerable and grounding. It’s teaching me that the most meaningful chapters of life rarely announce themselves with fireworks. Instead, they arrive quietly, urging us to reconsider our purpose and embrace both uncertainty and growth with open arms.
Perhaps that is the true gift of this birthday: the realization that the life I am living is no longer the prelude, but the story — and I’m finally the one writing it.
Ava is a fourth-year advertising major and French minor at the University of Florida. This is her third semester writing for Rowdy Magazine. Feel free to wish her a happy birthday on December 11.