There is a natural order to what can be considered life’s biggest thrills when you are growing up.

Much like a video game, we seem to advance to higher levels and while gaining experience, we also earn privileges.

It all starts in the fifth grade. You get to wear the orange safety belt and dominate. It is amazing what power and awe comes with a plastic neon garter that all will respect. Nothing says “seniority” like AAA safety.

I used to wear mine at home to see how its magic worked on my little brother. It lost its charm after the first week - turns out my mom explained to him his position in life was not to be my slave.

I quickly got over it, however, because I was soon on to bigger and better things - middle school. And after that, of course, came high school - a place where you first learn the excitement of each birthday.

Growing up was exciting. A driver’s license at 16, rated-R movies at 17, voting at 18 and entrance into clubs in Windsor, Ontario at 19.

And I just turned 21. What could be better than that?

Many of my friends hit the legal drinking age before I did. I watched them enter a new world of fun that I longed to (legally) be part of.

Now my “video-game” life has come to a halt. I am no longer Link in search of a princess named Zelda. She has been captured by Captain Morgan and the two of us will retire on Long Island.

My game world of trying to attain another year to my life and earn more rights has been left at a blinking “game over.” And I don’t even think I earned the highest score.

I am left staring at the screen asking, “Now what?”

I can drive, vote and legally drink. But I have the sense - which comes with the age - to know not to do these at the same time. I am part of a group others envy, yet now I long to remember what it was like the week before my 16th birthday - certain it would never come. I remember these times of innocence, each responsibility adding up and creating the credentials of the person I am becoming.

I am 21 years old, and I know what I look forward to does not exactly enjoy more freedom. I can look at it one of two ways: First, I can choose to continue my method of waiting for the next age where I receive something life-changing. But that means waiting until I am in my 60s for Social Security. Yippee.

Or, rather than my usual outlook, I can try to use what I already have under my belt at 21.

I am not going to begin wearing orange belts that designate authority, but I know it is the time to start planning my own life. I set the rules I wish to live by now, and I have the license to get me there.

My last birthday did not just get me access into The Landshark, it gave me another chance card to add to my life’s pile. I can either make bad decisions - and “go directly to jail” - or I can earn my free card of knowledge that will save me in future situations.

So what does 22 hold? Or 23? I can’t honestly say. I am a junior right now, and all I know is that I am working to plan a future for myself. I don’t believe in dreams - I believe in challenges.

I am back into my video-game world, but a license to drive and the right to legally drink no longer hold themselves to be my ambitions as they once did. I have new goals that are not milestones that come with a certain age. They come with various experiences and the lessons I will learn.

The times I have spent and have yet to spend in college are all a result of the years before. While I can certainly say next January I will be 22 years old, I can’t tell you what passage this will give me. I can aim for what I want to achieve, but it is no longer guaranteed, like the rights that come with age.

Each good decision I make will help me increase the score on the personal game of my life, and each wrong one may cause a new turn.

It’s how I learn from each turn that will allow me to have infinite lives, however, it is what I do with the chance cards that will lead to where I will be when I turn 22 or 40 years old.

Because when we play our own personal video games, we are taking chances and learning from each of their outcomes.

So while it is fun to reminisce about the days when an orange safety belt was all we needed to be in control and feel important, it is more vital to realize we are still wearing that belt.

While it may not work on our younger siblings, certainly that authority will work on ourselves.

Rachel Wright, State News administration reporter, can be found making rounds at the many bars on Grand River Avenue, or contact her at wrightr9@msu.edu.