On Oct. 21, I was stopped in my tracks by a frightening realization: In a month’s time I will be 25. The big 2-5. A quarter of a century.
I know I shouldn’t approach the day with apprehension. Some of my friends have recently faced the milestone without any major hang-ups. It’s not that I have some desire to stay 24 forever or that I have a fear of growing older, it’s just that I thought my mid-20s would be different.
Growing up, I thought 20 was the immutable threshold between childhood and adulthood. Whether a person was ready or not, I thought big things followed a 20th birthday: an emotionally and financially rewarding career and a sophisticated apartment in a big city, to name a few. Twenty came and went and I didn’t feel a day over 18. I was, however, happily enjoying a feigned sense of independence at the University of New Hampshire. I say feigned because I was still relying on my parents to supplement my small paycheck from my work-study job at the library and when school closed for vacations, it was back to living under my parents’ roof.
My 21st birthday was perhaps the only major stepping stone toward adulthood beside reaching voting age. It meant I was allowed into the classy establishments that I imagined someone with a sophisticated apartment in a big city would frequent. Flashing my I.D., however, did not make me feel more mature.
As I approach 25, I’ve come to believe that this decade may be a time – for lack of a better term – to figure stuff out. I remember a quote from a woman who had recently turned 30. She said her 20s were the worst years of her life and she couldn’t wait to leave them behind. The woman said she was plagued by insecurity throughout her 20s.
I remember hearing the quote years ago and thinking, “I thought turning 20 meant any awkwardness and insecurities from my teenage years would disappear.” Adding another candle to your birthday cake, however, doesn’t equate to another ounce of confidence. It is earned by the experiences that make up each year.
Happily, the expectations that have traditionally been attached to certain ages have started to gel together, leading to a time in which age is less of an overriding factor. I love hearing about people in their 50s and 60s who embark on a career change or head back to school. It is reassuring to know that people can still reevaluate their interests after their 20s.
The mantra, “You have your whole life to work,” is supposed to be freeing to 20-somethings, but I find it to be more of a depressing statement. It implies people should be spontaneous and take chances while they’re young because one day their life will be reduced to their occupation.
From my own self-evaluation, I know I have become more spontaneous and laid back as I grow older, but I hope I won’t stop taking risks once I hit 30. I may not be a big risk taker by other people’s standards; however, I think I have come a long way.
I recently caught a few minutes of a television program about a group of men, many of them in their 50s, who decided to celebrate their age by climbing a mountain and then skiing their way down. When I’m approaching 50, I hope I will be of the attitude to celebrate with similar enthusiasm.
The best way to get there, I think, would be to change my outlook on 25. I will (or will at least try) not think of it as a measure of my accomplishments or maturity and will instead approach it as another year’s worth of opportunities.  That way, I can be sure there will always be something to celebrate.
–Amanda Estes