When I turned 25, I mentally drafted my five-year plan. For me, my five-year plan was all about love. I knew that I wanted to get married at 30, and I wanted to be dating the guy for two years before we got engaged (hah! We all know how well that turned out), and so I knew my timeline for finding my husband would be about 27. At 25, that gave me two years to do some serial dating so that I could find a mate.
So at 25, that was my five-year plan. Date, Get Engaged, Get Married.
By the time I turned 26, I had already completed all three.
I’m turning 29 now. Twenty-nine. It is such a grown up number. I could have never predicted four years ago that my life would turn out the way it has and yet I am perfectly content.
While I don’t feel that 30 is old by any stretch, I do see it as a sort of unofficial official mark of adulthood—if that makes sense.
There’s a part of me that still feels like Eric and I are just playing house. Yes, we pay rent and utilities and pay down student loans, and we go grocery shopping on weekends, and we purchase our own plane tickets without asking our parents for permission or having to borrow their credit card to make purchases, but I still feel like we’re just playing, like this is all just pretend.
Maybe because it’s too much fun? And being a grown-up isn’t supposed to be fun?
When my mom turned thirty, she had a 10-year-old (me), a five-year old, and was eight months pregnant with my youngest brother. So as a 10-year-old looking at my mom, I saw her as a serious grown-up. And now that I’m turning the age my parents’ were at one point, I feel like I should feel old, but I don’t.
Does that make sense?
I somehow thought that being a grown up was supposed to suck. But I really enjoy our life right now.
I don’t really have any goals for 29. It’s really just about continuing to do what we’re doing, having fun, saving up, paying off debt, and getting through grad school.
At what point did you feel like a grown up?