The Quarter-Life (Cry)sis

There are a few distinct joys of being born in December:

1) Sharing your birthday with the holiday season. Fairy lights draped across trees in front yards, red and green everywhere, silver and gold nudged in between.

As is tradition in the Hallmark channel movies, there's a sense of child-like awe in this. There's a certain sparkle and magic here.

2) Sometimes, there's snow. Each snowflake is a ballerina, toe-twirling and loop-de-looping its way to the ground. Oh! And on the days where the sun peaks through the clouds and streams through the air, you get to see the snow's crystals!

Glorious (*Chef's kiss*)

3) You get to ring in the new year with a whole new number. A turned leaf. A blank slate.

Normally, this last point is most promising.

Then 2020 happens.

Furthermore, this year, I wasn't actually really looking forward to my new number. December 2020 was the year I turned

25.

Pause on the child-like wonder, because apparently I'm an adult now.

Yes, the Spelling is Intentional

A few days ago, I had a big. ugly. cry. Snot sliding down my chin, eyes red and puffy. I had had one too many minutes scolling through social media, seeing everyone else's lives progress except mine (or so it seemed). My self-criticizing gremlin had come out to play, and play hard, so I called a time out.

What I've come to realize about 25 is it's a transitional year. Some of us are working full-time, or are recent university grads; we're still trying find our place in the big wide world. Others are...

Getting paid above-liveable wages.

Establishing careers.

Starting businesses.

Getting engaged.

Getting married.

Having babies.

All of these adult things I'm not even remotely close to being able to do. Yet, I know in my heart and deep in my bones, I don't even want the things on the latter half of the list. Not for a long time.

So why am I convinced that I need them?

Women's Experience of Time - A Narrative

For far too long, women have been conditioned to associate their youth with their worth. While this is objectively untrue, and there is no correlation in the slightest, the stats don't help us.

Just look at what we're taught.

In Science...

"A woman is born with all the eggs she will ever have. As she ages her eggs age with her and their number and quality reduces over time. This is why her chance of having a baby also reduces over time, especially for women older than 35 years of age.

*This information can be difficult for women who, for whatever reason, are not ready in their 20s or early 30s to start a family *."

https://www.yourfertility.org.au/everyone/age

(*Anyone else feel the glaring spotlight in their face?)

Thank goodness my mom wasn't deterred; she went on to proudly have me at 38 and my brother at 41.

In Consumerism...

Do a quick web search of "Anti-aging Products" and this is the first link that pops up.

I'm sorry, but how old is this model? Why does she need anti-anging products?

"It's preventative."

Okay, yes, by all means, wear sunscreen whenyou go out. Protect your skin like you would any other organ. It has to last you a lifetime, after all. But do they mean preventative....

....for wrinkles? What's so bad about wrinkles?

The products can range from about $10 U.S to a few hundred dollars. Over time, that becomes quite the personal investment, depending on what you're buying. Furthermore, for the last several decades, these products (and potions alike) have been featured in dozens of commercials, a majority of which are targeted more towards women than men.

And the total estimated value of the anti-aging market?

$50.2 billion U.S

That's a lot of money a select few companies are making off of others' insecurities. Just imagine what else that money could do, where it could go.

In Pop Culture...

Singing in the Rain (1952)

Ah yes! A classic! How old was Debbie Reynolds when she filmed it? 19.

And how old was Gene Kelly, her romantic opposite? 39.

You think it would get better eventually, but....

Lolita (1962)

Also a classic, although age-centric plot of this novel-turned-movie is undoubtedly problematic (Nevertheless, there was a remake in 1997).

Sue Lyon (15) and James Mason (53)

Poison Ivy (1992)

Drew Barrymore (17) and Tom Skerritt (58)

Entrapment (1999)

Catherine Zeta-Jones (29) and Sean Connery (68)

Magic in the Moonlight (2014)

Emma Stone (25) and Colin Firth (53)

And these are just some of many.

Now, I'm not shaming age-gap couples. That's not what this is. In the real world, love is love, and I whole-heartedly believe that. Yet, in Hollywood, there is this undeniable pattern of young women (sometimes, very young women) playing romantic opposites to much older men. Why are there no female romantic leads older than a certain age? And why is it not a problem prevalent to male actors? Life, romance, etc. doesn't stop after age 25.

Huh.

All things considered, maybe it's not so crazy that I'm having a quater-life crisis.

So now (taking a long-overdue, deep deep breath)

....How can I make the most of 25 this year?

Into 2021

2020, much like time itself, reminded us all that there are simply things we cannot control. Sure, we can plan for big like events, but sometimes the world has other plans.

The Covid-19 pandemic riddled 2020. Yes, we've progressed. There's now a vaccine. But the virus is still here. For some, it may not even feel like a new year at all, because we still have to cautiously, patiently, deal with last year's problems.

Thus, my list for 2021 is not one of resolutions; its a list of Things to Remember, things about myself and the world I know to be true:

1) My womanhood, femininity, and power are not dictated by age.

2) Time doesn't stop, but there are ways to make it feel slow, in the best way possible.

Write. Read. Connect with loved ones.

(For specifics, reminisce; remember bluffs overlooking oceans, the sunniest November day, etc.)

3) 25 really isn't that old. I don't have to lose my child-like wonder just because I'm getting older.

Speaking of which, we're not even into the coldest weeks of winter yet!

Maybe it'll snow.