25 Reasons To Freak Out About Turning 25

Because not everyone gets to do a Rihanna-style boat party…

Cary-Fagan

by Kieran Yates |
Published on

If you’re not at quarter life yet, then it’s coming for you. If you're very reasonably facing the big TWO-FIVE by drinking cider in the park and panicking, then let Kieran aid you through your personal crisis – if only just to let you know that she totally gets why you would be freaking.

All the Spices were under 25, which means that you’re now too dried up for platforms and pigtails (but not for girl power, so don’t have a total breakdown).

Welcome to the 25-34 box. The end of early-twenties angst, the beginning of a midlife crisis.

No savings for you!

Can you believe that at one point people actually used this as a real measure of income? Like, was EVERYONE on opium before we were born, or…?

Oh hai housing crisis! Though, at least that’s not just you. It’s all of us. While I'm on this, can I do a quick plea to stop a generation watching Grand Designs? Too depressing.

You’re not really a young entrepreneur, are you? Society kinda expects you to come up with a good idea by now, so jeez, what do you want – a medal?

Ugh.

LOL. See above.

9.** You have enough money to eat out about three times a week**

Let’s say, on average. In which case, you have to start picking your best friends.

I still have one and I look creepy scrolling up my teen-dominated dashboard.

WHY have I just received plates for my birthday?

That probably won’t happen this year, though.

If you took a few years out to have fun/screw the system and decided to defer studying for a few years, you are now an old, creepy student and everyone in halls will make you feel like it.

Seriously, stop trying to sell me anti-ageing cream, woman. I don’t need reminding that my face is slowly collapsing. PLUS I know they don’t work.

Stop trying to sell me anti-ageing cream. I don’t need reminding that my face is slowly collapsing

Fuck you, haters, you don't know my life – what do you expect me to wear? PEPLUM?!

Is this something else I have to think about while I walk the streets eating packets of ketchup and looking for an income? Cool.

This is different for everyone, but on average, 25 is the age when you have to start plucking silvery strands from your head.

On average, 25 is the age when you have to start plucking silvery strands from your head

You’re not at the point when you’re 40 and you think you’re going to die, but you’re past the bit where you can jump up in the morning, eat eggs, listen to the Prodigy and have another drink.

Well, my personal opinion is that anyone over 18 shouldn’t really be asking for money from their parents, so if you’ve got to this age and still are, just stop. FFS.

You start getting all like, ‘Oh God, should I like, buy The Observer and eat croissants in bed?’ when you roll in at 11am on a binge.

Ugh. Casual sex is harder because everyone is panicking about settling down and marriage and how time is running out and it makes you reflect about what kind of father the boys you don’t even like will make.

Christ, I’ll get my uterus swabbed in MY OWN TIME, OK?

Can I still buy Sainsbury’s Basics wine? Can I bring a £3 bottle of vodka to a house party? Which leads us on to…

Don’t get me wrong, I do like eating and not having to leave my house, but Christ – what is it with people who feel the need to throw unnecessarily ostentatious dinner parties all the time? I can’t cook, can’t afford to cook, and when you ask me to ‘throw a dinner party’ it makes me hate you.

Kinda screwing myself over here, but really, it’s all fine. Because if nothing else, at least you’re entitled to whine about how shit quarter life is – and if you can afford to buy meat/orange-juice-not-from-concentrate once in a while, then just shut up and check your privilege.

Picture: Carey Fagan

Follow Kieran on Twitter @kieran_yates

This article originally appeared on The Debrief.

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