Baffled By This Age...

I am twenty-five years old. Two and a half decades. Is this old? Is this young? Should I have accomplished more by this age? Should I be settled and focused by this age? Should I just be concerned with enjoying life at this age?

I find myself often plagued by these questions. I'm also not sure that they matter at all. I can't define myself by how many years I've existed, regardless of the fact that such definition is what we- individuals and society- are constantly trying to do. Checking that little age box is a day to day mental process.

But we all know age is relative. And while these numbers might be something to look forward to or dread when they're upcoming(driving at sixteen, drinking at twenty-one or losing my youth at thirty- I know that's not really true for thirty but that doesn't stop me fearing it) and look back on with nostalgia or relief after they've passed, they mean nothing to us when we're living them.

I'm 25. So what. It means nothing: twenty-five (though, in a scary side note, I have finally reached the age where I don't always automatically know how old I am when questioned).

I know I should set goals based on what I, as an individual, need or want. Instead I often find myself trying to set goals based on my perception of what a person living in this magical, glowing number '25' should be. Maybe because I, as an individual, have no idea what I need or want.

Looking around at my 'peers', there are a few I admire or desire to emulate. But more act as warnings and even more are like me- drifting in this nebulous mid-twenties zone. It seems strange, by the way, to call an age group my peers this long out of secondary school, even though I know this is standard practice. But now that I no longer have to worry about them pressuring me into cigarettes, drinking, or drugs, the term has lost its initial meaning. I suppose this perception of the 25 year old that I'm struggling with is the new peer pressure- get married, have kids, live in a foreign country, be somehow more fringe and less establishment, get a career instead of a job, party harder and longer now while I'm young- things like that.

There's a lot of talk about delayed adolescence or late adolescence, starting after college and stretching into the early thirties. Arrested Development. Quarter-life crisis. Caused most probably by the plethora of choices available to the modern young adult. It's not a bad thing. But, one thing I know from living it is that it's quite overwhelming.


Anyway, today's sign that I am still quite young: I like to run down deserted hallways, just for fun...just because somewhere deep down, it still feels forbidden.

I can, I can hear the bells are ringing...

Today, after spending much time plotting and planning the duties that fall to the Maid of Honor, I received a call from my mother informing me that yet another one of my childhood friends has taken the vows. It's practically an epidemic at this point. I'm worried.

I told my Mom, "God, I'm glad I live in New York. No one wants to get married here. We like just flitting around and bumping into each other." Which is true. We then proceeded to have a discussion on the lives of women after marriage and what they should and should not be, and how this affects the children.

I wish I didn't want to get married. I wish it wasn't such a desperate need burning deep inside me. It's scary, and I can't really excuse it. I have no solid proof that marriage leads to happiness. I've seen my parents thrive under marital conditions but, truly, they're an anomaly. Books and movies often make it look lovely (though, really, they can make it look crappy, too). Really, it's just that society is screaming at me that I need to get married: sooner rather than later. I could get my Phd and publish an award-winning plethora of novels and be stinking rich, and if I didn't get married, the world wouldn't view me as a success. I probably wouldn't view me as a success either.

I want to be happy. That's a good life goal, right? That is the life goal, in fact. Does that mean I have to spend my life with one other person- legally joined and committed to one other person? Why should that, specifically, be a recipe for happiness? It doesn't make any sense.

The world is my oyster. It's open and shiny and right in front of me. I'm not diving in- really, I'm just floating along, but that's what most of us do. That's okay. But why is marriage this ultimate destination? Things don't end with marraige. Though, in a way, looking at my friends who have plunged or are preparing to, it kind of feels like they do. I fear they do. Marriage is scary: scary, yet desirable.

Okay, this blog really is just a crazy ramble. I just hate how consuming the idea of marriage is. I hate how much I want it (not today, but some day). I hate that women are still so defined by it, so much more than men. That's all.

In other news?

- Everyone else is travelling to exotic locals but me: Bangkok, England, New Orleans for Mardi Gras. I'm stuck in cold, everday New York.

- This new movie, The Number 23, that's being advertised everywhere really freaks me out- mostly because my favorite/lucky number is 23. Ooh, spooky!

- Jack Bauer and I would have lovely children. They'd be beautiful and blonde, and they could save the world and analyze literature. Too bad he's fictional.

The Lost Years...

Am I going to look back on these two years between undergrad and graduate school and think of them as the 'lost years' of my life?

There is certainly evidence to support this idea, as I:
- worked in menial positions in the family business
- formed no real romantic relationship but had my heart broken
- hardly broadened my horizons
- got rejected from graduate schools and by publishers
- had absolutely no sex
- wondered how much I've grown up at all
- lived at my parents' house for a year
- spent a lot of time in my hometown

But then again, I:
- learned to understand my father much more as a person by working with him
- learned to appreciate being single...and certainly got a lot of fodder for writing
- traveled in Italy and Budapest. And Spain (haven't gone yet, but I will before grad school). And I ran a half marathon. So...how broad did I want them?
- got accepted into graduate programs- one of which I am sure is right for me. also, wrote a lot of poetry and my first novel. And took some great classes at the local community college and at Loyola College- The Absurd in Life and Literature has probably changed my life
- contracted absolutely no STDs
- learned a lot more about what being 'grown up' means
- got to spend a lot more time with my family, who I appreciate more than ever. Plus, I eventually moved out and learned to live in my own place
- viewed my hometown through more adult eyes- and figured out how awesome it is. Realized how much I love living in the country with its wide open spaces, field parties...wine festivals...grass...

Plus let's not forget that, for the most part, I've had a really great time.

I've had two entire years of my life with very little direction. But you know what they say: "all who wander are not lost".

And who knows what's ahead?



Did I create this entire post just to have a place to put fuzzy little koalas? The world may never know...