What is appropriate at age 25? Marriage, perhaps? A first child? Most definitely a sound job with benefits.
Twenty-five doesn’t look like that for me, however.
Twenty-five looks like booze and bad decisions. It looks like too much Jameson and not enough gym time. It looks like a planned one drink turning into seven drinks and six shots. It looks like a shame-hangover. It looks like a crisis.
You see, I work my ass off as a server in order to put myself through school and pay all my bills. Because of this, I allow myself to rage a little.
You may be thinking, “This girl sounds like a wreck and a half.” Well, though you may be correct and though I may make some questionable decisions, I have decided that this is what 25 is. It’s one last hurrah.
Yes, yes, I know I’ll have a life full of beauty and adventure and that it doesn’t end after my twenties. What I’m saying is that one day I probably will want to “settle down.” I will sleep with one man and probably keep my whiskey intake down to a very minimum, in order to save myself from liver failure and scowling Range Rover driving soccer moms.
I don’t want to be 40 years old, going through a midlife crisis because I chose to ignore my quarter-life crisis.
Will I still have a midlife crisis? Probably. High anxiety and over-analyzation is in my nature, so, I imagine I haven’t seen the last of it. I’m just saying that I know for a fact that I’ll never look back at my youth and say, “Oh man, I really should have taken advantage of not having any real responsibilities and gotten into a little bit of trouble.”
I might screw up and it might cause me a world of hurt, but I like to experience my mistakes. I’ve never been the person that can be told the iron is hot. I’m the person that has to hold the iron while flipping the bird at those telling me not to, until I scorch my fingers to the bone.
We get too wrapped up in what we’re “supposed” to be doing. And no, this isn’t another article speaking out against society norms and demanding we swim upstream.
My lifestyle may not be fitting for everyone. Some people don’t have to riot the way I do. Let me be clear, I don’t have a problem with marriage and babies and a 9 to 5. I just feel sorry for the person who tries to have any of those things with me in my current state of mind. Maybe one day, but just not now.
This article is about accepting the disaster lurking inside.
Accept the ugly and the riot. Be proud of it. I know I am. Embrace it and allow it to come out and mess shit up. It’ll fester and feed on an entire life if it’s not allowed to stretch its arms and bulldoze through some peace and quiet.
This is what 25 looks like to me. If it looks like this to you, then realize you’re not alone. If it doesn’t, then sit back and enjoy the stories.