Hi. My name is Katie and I have what one kind, elderly woman on the N train recently described as a “BABY FACE!!!!!!!!!!” Many people have told me that I look younger than I am. I am about to turn 25. I better look 17 when I turn 65 or I swear on Rihanna and candied walnuts that I’m coming for all of you liars.
Anyway, people have been tossing their metaphorical cookies upon hearing about my upcoming age-turn. These people include: my brother, my grandfather, and my doctor.
Johnny, my 20-year-old brother, has recently been playing this game called “In 20….” It goes a little something like this:
“In 2026, Katie will be…….35.”
“In 2036, Katie will be 45!”
“IN 2046, KATIE WILL BE 5-”
And that is when I bludgeon him with our Time Warner Cable remote and all is well.
The other day, my grandfather’s eyes widened so large when I brought up the big 2-5 that I thought his adorable eyes were actually going to fall out of his face.
“You’re turning TWENTY FIVE?”
“..Yes. Yes I am.”
“Wow.” -My grandpa. WOW, GRANDPA? You’re “WOW”ing me now????
My doctor had the most superb reaction of them all. It occurred as so:
He said, and I am not exaggerating, “25?! TWENTY FIIIIIVE? OH NO. THE OTHER SIDE OF 25. Your friends will have ENGAGEMENTS! You friends are going to start to have BABIES! GOTTA FIND A JOB YOU LIKE!”
To which I responded with “…”
Let’s see. I’m probably closer to splitting the atom and winning the next season of So You Think You Can Dance than I am to engagements or a baby. I’m still trying to find the job that I love. Does someone have a hint that my life is scheduled to end come mid-November when I’m, as my doctor screamed, “ON THE OTHER SIDE OF 25”? People are starting to freak me out, but like…I have a pulse, a roof over my head, and can buy food and/or coffee at any point I need to so I truly cannot complain.
I like the number 25, I think it’s pretty. It’s odd and SO AM I LOL. I have no idea what 25 will bring. Definitely more useless clothes and toys for my dog–this is all I can bet on. I thought it may be helpful, however, to give some under-25-year-olds a cheat sheet to what ages 20-24 are like. You are so welcome!!
20: God, I hope 20 is more enjoyable for you than it was for me. This age is just A LOT. The whole no longer being a teenager thing is kind of the pits. Like now if you do stupid garbage, the world/society is totally going to hold you accountable for said garbage! It’s definitely a year of change. You’ll probably feel like an “adult” (but LOL don’t be fooled) and you’ll want to or be forced to try new things. For instance, I tried a new thing in being an RA. Three weeks into being an RA, my residents and I had a meeting with a big Residence Life boss and a group of my residents took out a “list of things Katie does/has done that upsets us”. LOL TWENTY IS ATROCIOUS. You haven’t lived until you’ve had to sit in a room and listen to why people hate you though. Welcome 2 ur 20s gurl!!!
21: Oh. Hello. It’s me, the age you’ve been waiting on bated breath for. BECAUSE NOW YOU CAN GO HAVE A MERLOT WITH YOUR MOM AT THE BAR ON SECOND AVENUE! You classy and cultured specimen!! Being 21 is grand. It is a great blend of young and old-enough. It’s important to not overdo it with binge drinking and stuff. You really think you’re an adult now. Still probably not. You’re well on your way though.
22: I’m going to be honest, the age of twenty two didn’t do it for me. It was bleh. A prominent pro of 22 is that there is a more inherent sense of sophistication. You’re no longer that 21-year-old. You’re 22 and you’re not going out to get drunk! You’re thinking about moving into an apartment and possibly having a housewarming party at this hypothetical abode. You’re making MOVES, even if they’re only in your brain.
23: Welcome to Pressuretown, USA. Population: You!! Lol!! Really though, you’re going to wake up at 23 and start to feel just an inkling of more pressure to have your shit figured out. If you don’t have a plan, you best have plan for you not having a plan–because if you don’t, people are going to start pointing out that you don’t have a plan. My plan was: “I want to own a dog soon”. Whatever, it was a fucking plan AND IT WORKED SO BYE.
24: The last year on the baby side of 25. Oh 24, I’ll miss you girl! 24 ain’t a bad age. At this point, you and most of your friends will have dabbled in a job you’re [at least time-wise] committed to. Maybe you’re in school. Maybe you travel. Maybe you host a Youtube Channel on knitting. You’re starting to live. You’re still young, but you’re a bit more respected.
I still feel young. I have felt so young and so old in each age that I have lived. I hope as the older I get, I continue to appreciate the youth and the chances that I have been given.
When it comes to 25, I’m not immensely or paralyzingly worried. For me, that’s a big deal. I will turn 25, and I will have my LOVELY math-oriented brother who I’ll keep around to remind me how old I’ll be in each passing decade. As long as I have the motivation, drive, and resources to continue to run screaming towards the job, people, and circumstances that I want, I think the whole getting older thing will be just fine. I’d actually like to think it’ll be better than fine. After all, I did get the dog.