Age is Just a Number...

It’s crazy, honestly, the amount of pressure we place on ourselves to have life figured out, and I'm saying this as someone who has an internal pressure (however minute) on herself. Even crazier is how society adds this invisible stopwatch over our heads, like we’re all running the same race with the same milestones, same deadlines. Who created these rules? And why do we all secretly agree to them even when we don’t admit it out loud?

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Like, imagine being 23. You’re still basically at the start of your twenties, trying to figure out who you are, how to pay bills, how to survive in this messy world, but then there’s this constant whisper in your head: “you’re not married yet, what about your biological clock?”

It’s wild how often I hear women joke or half-joke about their “eggs drying up” when they’re barely out of school. And don’t even get me started on guys. Somehow by 25, you’re already supposed to be a millionaire with multiple streams of income, six packs, a house, a Tesla, a thriving startup, and still have time for gym selfies. Like… what? Where did that even come from?

I think people forget that 20–25 is literally your early twenties. Early. As in the warm-up stage. As in, maybe you’re just learning how to balance adulthood, maybe you’re just moving out of your parents’ house, maybe you’re just realizing rent is not cute at all. This idea that you need to have the “big things” figured out by then, marriage, money, career, kids, it makes no sense.

And honestly, this is my hot take: you don’t even start to feel like an actual adult until around 30. Before then, you’re practicing. You’re learning, fumbling, crashing into walls. That’s not wasted time. That’s literally the building phase. I mean, think about it: even people who are thirty-something still joke that they don’t feel like “real adults.” People in their 30s still feel like kids half the time. Some don’t even know what they want to do with their lives yet, and that’s okay.

That tells me something. It tells me age is just this random number we use to scare ourselves. Because ask anyone who’s 60 or 70, and they’ll tell you, they don’t feel old. They may notice their body changing, sure, but in their minds, they’re still the same curious, clumsy, messy, laughing versions of themselves they were decades ago. They’ll even look in the mirror sometimes and be shocked at the gray hair, like, “when did this happen?”

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So why are we here, in our twenties, losing sleep because we’re not “there” yet, when “there” doesn’t even exist? You hit one milestone, then society shifts the goalpost and gives you another. You graduate, cool. Now what about marriage? You marry, cool. Where are the kids? You have kids, okay, but are you financially stable enough? You hit stability, great, but what about buying property, traveling, retirement savings? It never ends. The list is endless.

And I’m not saying ambition is bad. No, ambition is beautiful. Wanting more is human. But the obsession with timelines? That’s poison. It steals joy from the present.

Sometimes I wonder, what if we stopped measuring ourselves against society’s calendar? What if we actually let life unfold at its own pace, the way it’s supposed to? What if a 23-year-old didn’t feel pressure to marry, and a 25-year-old guy didn’t feel broken because he wasn’t a millionaire yet? What if we normalized the idea that your twenties are for building, experimenting, failing, trying again, maybe crying in between, and that’s not a bad thing?

Especially the parents, what if they tell you, "hey, take it easy, your 20s are for figuring out who you wanna be. You're supposed to fall and stand again at this stage of the journey, and don't worry, no matter how much you fall, I'll be here to pick you up and dust the sand off your body, get you pumped to try another lane. All I just need from you is the passion and drive to keep going. Let me know I raised a relentless human who's driven to succeed and has a happy life."

Instead, most of the parents give you their own timeline, internally in their head, and some even say it out loud. lol.

I mean, let’s be honest. Do you even want to peak at 25? Think about it. If you’re already living your “dream life” at 25, what’s left to look forward to? I think there’s something beautiful about being a work in progress. Well, good for those it worked for at 25, but c'mon, must we all have the same ol' story to tell?

The funny thing is, when you finally get to 30, you realize it’s not some magical finish line. You don’t suddenly wake up with all the answers. You still make mistakes, still question yourself, still wonder if you’re doing it right. And then at 40, same thing. At 50, same thing. Life isn’t a straight road to “I’ve made it.” It’s circles, spirals, loops. It’s constantly becoming.

So maybe the only real mistake is rushing. Rushing to tick boxes that weren’t even designed for you in the first place. I think the real win is living fully, exploring, learning, failing loudly, laughing at yourself, and allowing your journey to be fully YOURS.

Because at the end of the day, age really is just a number. Nothing more. It doesn’t define when you should succeed, when you should love, when you should figure things out. It’s just… a number. And the truth is, nobody has it all figured out anyway, they’re just better at pretending.

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