From the movie “Spider-Man, No way Home”, the popular character MJ stated that “if you expect disappointment, then you can never really get disappointed.” Growing out of my childhood ignorant bliss, I came to realize that there is a truth to her saying. 

While being disappointed is a normal human emotion, being excited is also inversely proportional as if they were siblings. At the age of 16, I find that it is difficult to find joy in things that once made me happy, and no I am not depressed nor am I a wallflower (though I do enjoy comfort and stability), but I find that I am far too excited for everything and anything. I get too worked up over upcoming plans with family or friends, and I never truly enjoy myself because of the high expectations I set for the said day. Nothing meets the standards that I make in my own head, so I am met with a tinge of hopelessness. I don’t say this with any hint of arrogance or selfish pride but with sorrow. If I set my expectations lower, then I can expect a higher chance of being satisfied, yet I can’t control the excitement that new plans bring me. 

During my sophomore year of High School, I had been stoked for the upcoming summer. Plans were being made and a whole new closet fit for the warm weather made me ecstatic. Yet summer came, and I sat in my bed on most nights with nothing to do except make plans that probably weren’t going to make it out of my friends’ group chats. I thought of having fun more than I actually achieved it, and see that’s the problem. I wanted to achieve having fun rather than allowing myself to find fun in smaller moments. Not everything is a plan. This is why I turned to having more spontaneous hang outs with my friends. 

I concocted multiple new plans for the reward to be having a good time, but no one ever said anything about a race, so why the need for a reward? 

In elementary school I had a large friend group. We hung out whenever and did whatever we wanted because we were so young, and with our youth came no high academic or parental expectations. We simply lived with our lively and pure spirits. That time of my life was a rollercoaster of fun. I didn’t care for anything except for what hang outs to have next. There was no stress, no standards for fun. There was simply the adrenaline of being alive and being with people who enjoyed each other. I’d sleep in my own sorrow during High School, feeling “FOMO” while other people had their perfect summers while I sat in bed with nothing to do except scroll on my phone and succumb to the brain rot of technology. 

I tried to vanquish my excitement in the face with new plans yet I knew I could never do that. I began to expect disappointment in many things: plans, events, people, yet I didn’t realize I became most disappointed in myself. I try to fit the stereotype of a typical but adventurous and exciting girl, the one everybody wanted to be friends with. I tried to have the perfect summer because everyone else (basic in all of our own ways) wanted the same type of summer, so if they wanted it, then I want it too, right? 

I didn’t realize I had my own version of fun, and that I actually did enjoy myself while hanging with my friends and family. But it was the comparison of me to other people that stripped me away of my own excitement and joy. I felt defeated, lying in bed with pillows and books and self revelation. My standards were set high not for myself but for the world, as if society could see every moment of my day and how I spent my time. They can’t. I thought they could, or really, I thought they should. To show them that I, too, was having loads of fun and post it on social media was all I ever wanted. 

Perhaps the best things are never posted because there’s a risk it could be ruined. 

I now know I need to be more content with myself, and I’m not supposed to meet people where they are but instead be so rooted in my own life that everyone else won't sway me. I am only a teenager, and it isn’t the end of the world if I don’t have the best time or if people have more fun than me, because I do have my own version of fun and it’s a blessing to be able to enjoy ourselves. I am alive and I have good friends and fun will come to me whenever it wants to. It’s on its own schedule, not mine, so it can meet me where I am.