Age is just a number
While it may be true that “age is just a number,” it’s also true that certain birthdays are more significant than others.
When you turn 10, you’re a double-digit age. When you turn 13, you’re officially a teenager. When you turn 16 (and three months, in Virginia) you can get your driver’s license. At 18 you’re recognized by the country as an adult — you can vote and support a nicotine habit, and at 21 you can legally partake of libations.
After 21, each milestone birthday becomes a reminder of the years you’ve passed and those yet to come. Twenty-five marks the end of your formative ‘early twenties,’ and 30 for most means the real last-chance end of your young phase of life. Over-the-hill comments start emerging around 35 and 40, and at 50 you have a half-century under your belt and can begin to embrace discounts at generous shopping destinations.
So yes, age may just be a number. But even if you don’t fret about it, it’s still a number that counts.
The point here is that I’m coming up on a milestone, kind of. Today is my 24th birthday, upon which I embark on the twenty-fifth year of my life. As my friends begin turning 25 around me, and that milestone age number (that doesn’t matter) is slowly creeping up on me, I want to capture this “last year” of my youthful youth. And I plan to do that by documenting my twenty-fifth year here. All of its adventures and excitement, professional highs and lows, good times with friends, nights in and afternoons out. I hope to learn and to live out what I think it means to be 25.