Summary

The author reflects on turning 25, expressing apprehension about aging and career readiness, while reminiscing about the changes in her personality and interests since her teenage years.

Abstract

Upon reaching the age of 25, the author is introspective and anxious about her future and the aging process, particularly as she feels unprepared for a career despite having a Master's degree. She contrasts her current lifestyle, which includes a lot of Netflix and a sedentary routine, with her past activities and interests, such as painting, playing basketball, and socializing. The discovery of her teenage journal prompts a realization of how much she has changed, noting a decrease in laughter and the loss of hobbies, which she attributes to the process of growing up. The author acknowledges a shift towards being more stubborn and impatient, with increasing phobias, and questions whether these changes are a natural part of maturing or a deviation from her true self. Despite these concerns, she expresses admiration for older individuals who lead fulfilling lives and hopes to overcome her fears to emulate them.

Opinions

The author views turning 25 as a significant milestone that brings about a mix of emotions, primarily concern about personal growth and the future.
She believes that she has not lived up to her potential, as evidenced by her inactivity in pursuing a career and her replacement of active hobbies with passive entertainment.
The author is nostalgic about her younger years, which she associates with more laughter, creativity, and physical activity.
She feels a sense of loss and regret about abandoning past hobbies and the vibrancy of her youth.
The author questions whether the changes she has undergone are a natural part of aging or an undesirable transformation.
She expresses a desire to reconnect with the positive aspects of her younger self while also acknowledging the growth and development that come with age.
The author shows appreciation for the Medium community and specifically mentions a writer, Bella Martin, whose work she admires.
She makes a personal appeal for support, highlighting her situation as an Indian national deprived of her MPP rights, and invites readers to show their support by buying her a coffee.

From Sweet 16 to Triggered 25

I grew up, but did I evolve?

Turned 25 a few days ago and like most youth, I began dreading the other side of the twenties I’d cross to in a year.

To the people who are going to be like — “what the heck does she have to whine about, she still in her twenties smh.” — I apologize in advance. It is a big deal for someone like me who does not want to grow old. I had a phase in life when I thought forty is the prime year to die, the point where you’ve lived your youth but could escape the rest. I apologize for that as well.

I am on this bridge of the twenties we call twenty-five. At this age, the internalization in me is suggesting that I am supposed to be someone and do something. I got a Master’s degree almost two years ago and that’s about it. I still don’t think I am ready to step into a career. And now, with the excuse of taking a break to resume studies in a year or so, I am at home 24/7, in an intense three-way relationship with Netflix and my blanket.

On the day I turned 25, I went through a roller coaster of emotions. Looking towards the future did bother me, but a look back at the years I’ve covered gave me even more of a concern. I cut the cake with a calm disposition but my mind at that time was more hysterical than Joey from F.R.I.E.N.D.S on his thirtieth birthday.

To make matters worse, while searching for something in the closet, I stumbled upon my journal I wrote in the year 2013, the year I was 16. Yours truly thought it would be a wonderful idea to go through the pages with a pot of coffee and unwind. Well…

Around thirty-something pages in, I realized it was a bad idea. And no, not because of having to go through the insane thoughts I had at that age. Everyone has. Not a big deal. The issue that got me was the realization that I changed so much. For the worse. And it hurt.

From crying for hours due to a fallout with a close friend in school, to breaking promises and cutting ties with my best friend who was leaving the city for good — I changed.

A girl from my choir group at school once told me she likes the way I laugh — cupping my hands over my mouth so as to not show off my beautiful braces. I had written this down in the journal, if I remember correctly, with a tinge of embarrassment. Damn, I used to laugh a lot and many a time, out loud.

Nowadays, for a good laugh, I either rely on F.R.I.E.N.D.S, stand-up routines, or a good relatable meme of animated sloths high on caffeine.

The journal also reminded me that I used to paint. I remember winning some competitions at school with that — it amounted to generous grade points on the report card.

I haven’t touched a pencil or a brush since school. Heck, I do not even write much down with a pen after finding good use of the Notes app or MS word. Should I blame technology for that? Can I?

I used to go to a summer camp to learn basketball. I had so much fun. I was very serious about the sport. An excerpt from the journal — My hand aches while writing this… My team lost the game today at the practice match and as punishment, we had to dribble for 10 minutes straight. I don’t mind, it serves us right for that horrible performance.

The lines hurt especially after complaining about getting up from my couch to answer the door like 5 minutes ago.

Where did I go wrong? Or did I go wrong? Is this the process of growing up? Losing all the characteristics that added to one’s personality in their younger years — is this how one grows up?

I feel like I switched to a parallel realm as I exited my teen years.

Matters that I took lightly in my teens trigger me now to a great extent. I am now more stubborn and impatient than I used to be; my phobias are increasing, the older ones growing stronger — I sometimes feel like this is how my mind rebels against ageing.

Photo by Aman Upadhyay on Unsplash [**I don’t know, but for some reason this image looks apt for this rant article]**

Listen, I want you to know I am not turning a blind eye to the amazing people around me and on this platform who are older than me and doing wonderful in their lives. Kudos to you. I hope I will get over this fear and turn out like you.

This was me going off my head with all that overthinking stuff and if you’re still here, thanks for your patience, dear.

Before you go, please check out one of my favourite writers on Medium, Bella Martin and her post where she gives wonderful tips to live life.

Would you please consider buying me a coffee? Thank you so much. As an Indian national deprived of her MPP rights, this gesture of yours means a lot!

Love.