An alarm clock beep, both feet planted on the ground, and an unruly bedhead: “Good morning. It’s my birthday.” And just like that, I’m inaugurated into the adolescent secret society known as “sixteen year-olds.”

This is supposed to be it- my year, some ennui filled with angst in a hairspray can, contents mingling with some revelation to offer insight to my existential crises. I don’t know if I was expecting Jake Ryan to pull up to my nonexistent perfect older sister’s wedding (clichéd but totally guilty pleasure-worthy 80’s movie Sixteen Candles,) but all I needed was a bang! A sizzle? A pop? No exclamation marks necessary?

I’ll be honest- I’m a cynic at heart. I’m 80% sure that cold sarcasm runs through my veins. I’m not a fan of birthdays; the idea of turning one year older is just another year to me. Presents aside, I tend to have the worst kinds of birthdays, and lowering my expectations is always the answer to a better birthday.

But still, sixteen? Isn’t that supposed to mean something?

The idea of turning sixteen sounds wonderful, if you’re an optimist. Now, if you’re a chronic worrier with a fancy for worst-case scenarios like I am, you’d be just as terrified.

Blame it on my childhood obsession with Peter Pan, but I’m just a girl terrified, and somehow simultaneously exhilarated by the idea of growing up. The wonder and intimidation of the adulthood uncertainty, AKA finding the right college, actually getting into college, finding a job, being happy, falling in love, etc, etc. has induced many-a existential crises.

Newly minted sixteen years under the belt, a survival skepticism strapped to the ankle, and a general apprehensive fear: Not a good mix. The year when everything will change- romance! Red cup parties! Indestructible friendships. “Everything will change”–that frightens me. The only change I’d like is to not be afraid of starting the rest of my life.

Falling backwards into the unknown with both feet tied and a blindfold could easily be used to describe the whirlwind experience of the high school experience. One day, we’re just beginning, ghosts in unfamiliar hallways. The next, we’re veterans, pitching ourselves to universities and planning out the rest of our lives.

It’s natural to feel as terrified as I am, I know this. Still, it’s even less natural to fail to recognize the excitement of having the world at our fingertips. The world is sugar, we can stick out our tongues and taste it. So don’t fight the fear, just take a deep breath. Blow out your birthday candles, and laugh with your friends. Let the adrenaline kick in, and enjoy the fall.