I’ll begin with this: I am not 25. I am older than 25, not quite 30, but old enough to wish I was still in my mid-twenties. I’m also stuck. I like to think that I’m stuck at 25. It’s a great age when you think about it. Halfway from college years, halfway to this thing they call adulthood. Perfectly in between.
At twenty five, the bills have yet to stack up. Rent is still reasonable. Friends still single and without child. You’re still adjusting to adult life without being accountable for immature actions or thoughts. You can get away with things because, hey, I’m still ‘young’.
Those years may have passed me by, but I’m still clinging to them. The 20’s are an entire decade of transitions. Finding an identity that you know should be there. Creating a path that is acceptable to yourself and your family. Relinquishing the childish youth. It’s a defining time in anyone’s life. Ah, but what if we could just stay at 25.