21 And Not A Party Girl

When you’re not the party girl, people always assume that you’re lying.

I may enjoy drinking booze but it doesn’t necessarily follow that I enjoy bumping and grinding with other sweaty people who are clueless as to why they are there as well.

When I was 14, all I wanted to do is to get out there and party my night away. (Of course, back then, my parents wouldn’t allow me to do so.) But now that I can party and waste my weekends away, I’d rather not.

There’s something awfully uncomfortable with 14+ hours of high-impact twerking and nae nae-ing (not sure if this is actually a word). And I’m pretty sure, there are people like me who feel the same sentiments.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy night outs.

I enjoy booze-filled nights inside my apartment. I enjoy drinking cheap wine whilst watching netflix and I enjoy smoking  cannabis whilst pondering about the essence of our existence here within plethora of irony, which we call our reality.

I dearly enjoy those.

But there’s something that turns me off when you say that we’re bound to go jumping up and down inside a moshpit full of gritty hands that grope several parts of your body. There’s something terribly unsettling about the idea of seeing girls grinding their asses off with men they barely even know. There’s something disturbing about the idea of dancing for 14 straight hours whilst the only liquid you could down (because it’s the only liquid available) is a shot of tequila, or a bottle of not-so cold beer.

I know, it’s all too different when you’re already there. You’ll feel the hype and the electricity of the crowd, but you see, I have already been there and I’ve done my fair share of puking on side streets and sleeping inside convenient stores. I have experienced what it’s like to get all hyped up only to find yourself covered with puke (and other liquids you’re not so sure of) inside someone else’s car.

Maybe, this whole party thing is just a phase, just like puberty and I have outgrown that phase without having to pay for the consequences, like for instance 9 months of pregnancy or a positive result in an STD exam (which is a negative thing btw).

This Saturday, I turned my officemates down because I don’t want to pay $30 just to waste my weekend away from the hang over that I’ll probably suffer from come Sunday morning.  And besides, I have already made plans with my college friends and we’re going to have a lovely brunch out and we’ll talk about our messy little lives over bottles of cheap Merlot.

I am 21 years old and I am not a party girl, and that’s okay.

It’s okay to say ‘no’ to rave invitations (even if it’s an “invite-only-party-for-the-chosen-few”). It’s okay.

I need not force myself to twerk my weekends away just because I know that it doesn’t settle well with me.

It’s okay.

Say no.

If you don’t want to be the party girl, it’s fine.

Just say so.

20-somethings who feel the same way as I do, please note that we’re not here to prove our angst to anyone. We’re good with slow paced Saturday evenings on our couch catching up on our missed episodes of How To Get Away With Murder or whatever.

We’re all right. Nothing’s wrong with us.

And for those people who actually enjoy raves, good for you.

You guys are all right too. You do you.

And I guess that seals everything.

I am 21 and I don’t do parties, you are 40 and you’re still partying, all is well.

And all we have to worry about is how on earth we’ll finish out deliverables come Monday.

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