Stop Looking at Me Like That, 25!
Twenty-five, 25, two five, 2 and a half decades...however you say it, it is SCARY. My whole life I’ve always thought that at twenty five I would have it together, I would know life’s lessons and I’d be a well-rounded adult. I’m less than a week away from hitting 25 and I’ve realized - I don’t have any of that and I don’t want any of that! I lied a little, I do have my life together, I have a job, my dream job, and that’s a HUGE accomplishment. I am proud of myself. I just expected to be so much more “grown up” at this point. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not upset with not being “grown up”. I’m living life to it’s fullest and experiencing different things and thoughts everyday. But I have questions. I expected to be a full-time adult by now but there are some things I’m confused about...
When should I start saving money? I save some of it but then it’s just not there anymore. I’m pretty sure my savings hit a plateau after I put my college graduation money in the bank. I just want to get that number up!
What about drinking a bunch of days in a row...can I still do that? Physically, I can. But it feels wayyy different than it did at 21! Can 4 years really beat up on your drinking tolerance? Apparently yes. But is it socially acceptable for a 25 year-old to go on a drinking bender? I don’t really want to stop, until I physically cannot do it anymore.
Backpacks...are they an adult thing? I think my backpack is sophisticated and trendy but it’s still a backpack and I can’t shake how childish I feel when I wear it. It’s just so convenient...does being 25 mean I can’t have convenience? That’s not the only childish thing I do...I still dot my i’s with hearts. I know, that’s really bad, but why should I stop? Just because of my age? This is who I am and if someone can’t take me seriously because of a loopy-hearted dot above my i’s, then I feel bad for them.
Am I ever going to like folding clothes? Maybe if I was good at doing it I would...because I’m definitely not good at it! I hate when I fold a t-shirt and it doesn’t look perfect so I have to do it again. Does everyone do that? I don’t think my mom does. I wonder if she could fold perfectly at 25.
I love wine. It’s an amazing invention. My relationship with wine is not an “adult” relationship with wine. I drink it fast. I finish bottles by myself. I don’t know the difference between a Pinot Grigio and a Moscato. I’m only drinking it to get drunk. Do I really need to know wine etiquette to be considered a functioning adult in society?
I’ve struggled with this for a while, but I think it’s time to come face to face with them: my boobs. Are they done growing? As much as I hope and wish I’ll finally have that growth spurt everyone talked about I’m pretty sure I’ve missed it by 10 years. So now what? I look like a 12 year old, not a 25 year old! How can people take me seriously if I have small boobs!? Are boob jobs acceptable? Because that’s definitely motivation to get money in my savings.
This is a tough one...Uggs. Can I still wear them? Sometimes I feel like they scream “high school” but they are so comfortable and look so cute! Except, I’ve had the same pair since freshmen year of college and the sole just separated from the rest of the boot, so now I have to make a decision; repair them, get a new pair, or keep wearing the ripped ones. Throwing Uggs out of my life right now is just not an option.
Sunday, Sunday, Sunday....Am I supposed to wake up early and read the newspaper? Maybe cut out some coupons? Doing that hungover can’t be fun. I love Sundays...purely because of Sunday Funday but reading newspapers in the morning definitely doesn’t fall under the “fun” category. Do Sundays have to turn boring when I turn 25?
I love getting dressed up but my family made fun of me in college because I walked funny in heels and I kept telling myself “practice makes perfect” so I kept wearing them...and kept wobbling in them. I thought that by now it would have come natural...being 25 and all...but it hasn’t! I’m still wobbling. Can I take a lesson?
Chicken fingers will always be my favorite food but when I order them I get a weird look from the server! Can a 25 year old not order chicken fingers?! A girl deserves her chicken fingers.
I’ve been on a mobile family plan with my parents and sister since I was 15...does that ever have to come to an end? It’s so easy and cheap! Does being a part of a family plan make me less independent? I don’t think so. What about my car being in my dad’s name? I don’t see anything wrong with it! But people definitely judge...oh well. Thanks, Dad!
Should I be dining at fancy restaurants? I probably wouldn’t even like anything on the menu. You can usually find me eating at the local brewery. Just because I’m 25 doesn’t mean I have to be fancy!
Nappsssss - couldn’t live without them. I feel like adults judge me when I say “I took a nap” because heaven forbid anyone over the age of 7 gets a little extra sleep! I’m napping whenever I want for the rest of my life.
I’m all about knowing what’s going on in the world but do I really have to watch the news? Can’t I just watch TMZ? They refer to news stories and topical situations! They even talk about politics! I’m sure I can just figure things out from there.
Is this the year that I will finally understand politics? There are so many words and rules I just don’t understand. I’m hoping that the 25th year of life is when it just clicks.
The answer to this question could be life changing. Will my car insurance really get cheaper or is that a hoax?! Because if it’s true I can buy more shoes and clothes! Hmm. Guess that’s why my savings never grows!
That’s all I’ve got...for now. I know I’ll have so many more questions about this growing up and becoming an adult thing. One thing I know for sure - there are no lifestyle rules that come with age, my lifestyle is mine, it’s what makes me who I am and it’s not changing just because I’m another year older and it won’t change when I’m 90. So happy friggin’ birthday to me and anyone else who refuses to “grow up”. If I could sign this, I’d dot the “i” with a heart.
- Carla Marie