We arrived in Las Vegas after sundown, watching as thousands of blazing lights emerged on the horizon of an otherwise empty desert.
The city marked the symbolic end of a cross-country road trip I embarked on with two friends shortly after graduating from college — a final hurrah in a place known for its infamous nightlife and entertainment.
After spending most of our first official day in travel recovery mode, watching back-to-back episodes of “Below Deck” and, of course, “The Hangover,” we were ready to dive headfirst into what the city had to offer upon nightfall.
Unfortunately, I fell victim to the hype
I quickly confirmed what I already assumed would be true — the bright lights and alleged rush of a casino were not for me.
Historically, I have preferred to stay home, maybe drink wine with a few close friends, and present an out-of-pocket PowerPoint about who I think I was in a past life.
But there was a part of me that hoped Las Vegas would help me come out of my shell and be the “wild and free” 22-year-old I always felt I was supposed to be.
When we visited our first (and spoiler alert, last) casino, I didn’t find the crowded gambling tables and cocktail attire so often glamorized in pop culture.
Instead, I saw endless rows of everyday people glued to machines, seemingly unaware of the neighboring gamblers or the cigarette smoke around them.
The scene almost reminded me of how some people walk around college campuses glued to their phones, never once looking up to take in the community they’re in.
Despite wanting to understand the appeal, I never found myself feeling the sense of excitement so many others have recounted from their own visits to casinos, and we left having spent no more than a dollar.
I spent more time at the Hoover Dam than on the Vegas Strip
Grace Reed
The Vegas Strip failed to redeem my experience. We took a drive down the iconic street only to stay in the car due to the overstimulation of glaring lights and other drivers making our hair stand on end.
It was as if I was constantly in fight-or-flight mode, even though I was sheltered behind the door of the car. The whole experience felt like being trapped inside an anxiety attack.
During the trip, our visit to the nearby Hoover Dam was the only time I felt like myself. The structure left me amazed.
My search history became riddled with queries about the dam’s history, and my heart was overwhelmed by a memorial for a dog that had died during its construction.
The landmark’s gift shop also satisfied my urge to browse random trinkets and overpriced collectibles.
My friends and I even found ourselves bonding over new inside jokes about the dam. In all honesty, we may have talked more about the dam itself than any other point of our stay in Nevada.
The short day trip became a source of bonding between the three of us, leaving me with a better sense of self, new writing inspiration, and a Chipwich (a delicious cookie ice cream sandwich, for those unfamiliar).
For a while, I felt embarrassed to admit my favorite part of visiting Las Vegas in my early 20s was a trip 36 miles outside its borders. Now, I feel differently.
I want to redefine what it means to be in your 20s
Grace Reed
Some might argue that I didn’t give Vegas a fair chance — that I could’ve visited other casinos or tried to see more of the city. But for me, the experience was still incredibly valuable.
I realized, perhaps my problem isn’t with the city itself, but with the expectations I’ve allowed to influence my life for far too long.
My natural tendency to avoid blaring music and crowded rooms used to make me feel as if I was missing out on some crucial young adult experience.
What my time in Las Vegas revealed, however, is that you can’t grow and bond with others if you aren’t comfortable with yourself first.
There’s nothing wrong with wanting to live a “young, wild, and free” life in your 20s — it’s just not for me.
Trying to force myself to embrace a lifestyle I naturally feel disconnected from didn’t introduce me to a new way of living; it pushed me further away from who I really am.
Although there’s nothing wrong with trying new things and experiences, there’s no benefit in forcing yourself to be someone you’re not.
With that said, I don’t think my time in Las Vegas was wasted. If anything, it was the wake-up call I didn’t know I needed.
