In less than a month from now I am turning 25 and I hate it. Not just because last week I thought I noticed that I’m gaining a little weight in the middle and it haunted me so much I actually dreamt I was obese, but because I am falling apart. I have written about the quarter life crisis before but right now I am in the midst of it (the crisis) and if I don’t get a solution…
Actually I don’t feel a day over 18, and worse of all my decision making in many aspects of my life is still studded with the same naivety that it was when I was 18. My thoughts have progressed greatly but my fears still plague me. And I don’t understand why my body is betraying me you know, just this week I was invited to a prestigious event and Miss Confident Me took the phone and I called several designers to see if I can represent their brand by wearing something from their collection. They said “Ok” and they each quoted me a figure. I was shocked. Since I was discovered by a modelling agency a few years back, I have worn freebies to events and suddenly I gotta pay? I mean I have gone from size 28 to size 32 but that’s still skinny right? Over the last 3 months I have gained a few pounds and of course that came with the usual pecks like bigger boobs and some ASS (yey!). The boys love the curvy me, but of course ass comes with its own cousins in the form of cellulite and stretch marks. For some odd reason I have always thought I was immune to these things, that I could lose weight as and when I wish but as I approach my 25th birthday I realise that it might help to walk to the store and buy salad instead of fries.
So I have been asking myself “Am I the woman, I thought I would be at 25?” the answer is yes and no. At 25 I have a qualification, a goodish job and I am a businesswoman. At 25 I am an active church member and I have gone back to school, basically my plate is full. But also at 25 I am becoming a typical woman worried about aging and growing old alone (and rich *wink*). Good relationships are hard to come by at 25 because everyone thinks you are after the ring, which you are by the way.
The problem is I do not feel 25 neither do I want to be 25. Hell I still enjoy cooking for one, calling my mum to tell her I bruised my knee and fighting with my 13 year old nephew. But 25 does not allow you to be that. At 25 I am celibate (meaning I am not getting Some) and everyone else thinks I’m weird because I still think sex is special, or is it? I still don’t touch alcohol and I think popping a baby from my vagina will be traumatic for life but not as traumatic as realising the baby is yours and it’s non-refundable. My friend Lerato called me last week and one of the things he said was he doesn’t see me settling down, which kinda hurt because I think I would make an interesting wife.
Damn it’s hard to be this old. Of course everyone says “you are still young” but if being young feels like this then I’m doomed. Friends are hard to come by and insecurities in love increase every single day. I had planned to have a Playboy themed party but I thought No, the playboy bunny outfit won’t look as good on me as it was 2years ago so I called it off. So do I want a cake this year? I think I do but whoever gets the cake should not get me 25 candles because I’m asthmatic OK? So goodbye early 20s with all the partying, kissing strangers, wearing lime tights and Mohawks (maybe not). Hello mid 20s with your sexual peaks, sexy lingerie, serious men, dull colours and hopefully, just hopefully, some maturity…