Your mid-twenties are weird. I’m only half way through but I’ll tell you what I know.
At some point you start talking to your best friend about cutting sodium of your diet because you feel bloated.
You start putting flax seed on your oatmeal.
You realize that your parents’ actually know what they’re talking about and this prompts you to listen to their advice.
You start finding gray hairs. Not just one hair. Several.
You lose your ability to stay up late, wake up early, and still function normally.
You use clichés like, “That’s for the birds!” And find yourself wondering, “WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?! AND WHO AM I, MY GRANDFATHER?!”
You begin to refer to college freshman as “babies” because 18 is sooooo young and they’re so naïve and don’t they know how good they have it?!
You start worrying about health insurance and how many cavities you probably have.
You start saying things like, “I really need to start saving for retirement,” and, “I need to establish some credit.”
You start watching HGTV and thinking, “I should buy a fixer-upper while the mortgage rates are still low!”
And then, at some point, you stop saying things like, “When I grow up…” because it hits you—like a brick to the face, like a kick to the gut, like a —that you are indeed “grown up.” You have a job and people actually trust you enough to give you responsibility over things, important things and you’re buying your own toilet paper and probiotics and coconut oil because it’s supposed to be good for you, right? and you just adopted a dog and what were you thinking, embracing this growing up thing?!
It’s just a really weird place to be. You’re only 10 years from 16 but you feel like you’re 46 pushing 106.
But then again, being grown up, you start to realize that you’re never really fully “grown up.” You’re still uncertain of the future, still unsure of yourself. You’re still a little scared of the dark and all of the scary things out there at night. You still long for adventure and passion and love. You still want to laugh and be silly and shed all of that responsibility on a Friday night.
You still spend time thinking, “What if, when I grow up…”
But, you know, it’s actually better. It’s actually nice to know your credit score and buy yourself something nice with the money you’ve earned at the job where you’ve proven you’re responsibility. Or just to sit in the home that you’ve made for yourself with your little dog and your hand-me-down furniture and that coat rack that you hung yourself. I don’t think I’d trade it. I don’t think I’d go back to the simpler, naïve.
There’s some peace in the process of wisdom. There’s some strange beauty in the knowing. There’s something charming about growing up and knowing that you’ll never be grown up.
Ah, the mystery, the intrigue, the flax seed. You’ve just got to go with it.