Archive | July 2013

Quarter-life Crisis

photoYup, You read right! Quarter-life Crisis.
I watched a Youtube video yesterday that basically spelt out most of what’s going on in my life… Well, not really, but more like how my life has been in my thoughts.

Most of the points she brought up almost made me think she’s stalking my life. Mid 20’s crisis is real people.
Considering Superwoman and I are the same age, we have almost the same symptoms of quarter-life crisis.

Oh, before I go on, I’m 25 years old hence the quarter-life/ mid 20’s crisis… duhhh!
(Yes, I know… You can’t believe I’m 25. People hardly get my age right and I dont’ help them get it right either. Some people guess I’m wayyyyy older than 25 and some think I’m 19 or 20. Wait, did I just say my age? Well, this is it! I’m definitely going through some crisis. I never, and I mean never ever state my age… So here it is again; I’m 25. Let’s move on)

I woke up one Friday two weeks ago and all of a sudden, I wasn’t  24 again. And for some reason, I got uber paranoid, I immediately started viewing myself as I saw my aunties when I was a kid.
All of a sudden I realised, Oh crap, I’ve been living on my own for 6 years,trying to pay paying bills like old responsible people do, trying to sound intelligent when I interact with other older/responsible people (Whatever that means.) All of a sudden, I started seeing myself as one of those aunties who just live to wear asheobi for weddings and look pretty.

Look, being 25 is not easy. You have to start thinking seriously about the future. But then, there are those who think being my age means, you go out, have fun, stay out late, maybe even stay out all night, drink loads of alcohol and do risky things. I got bad news, since I turned 23, my desire to be out just hanging out, has gone down the drain. Fun for me now, simply involves leaving the office, heading to the gym, then home, shower…(that’s sort-of another story. Having a shower is a task I try to delay as long as possible) then laying in bed for hours watching movies, forgetting I have a phone, missing calls, eating, sleeping or maybe attempting to sleep (That’s because, my mind always finds a way of keeping me awake, thinking of how to be a better adult- which sucks!)

Being 25 apparently means, by Nigerian standards, I have to start getting serious about marriage. I have to start thinking hard about not letting my family down when it comes to finding a ‘good man’ from a ‘good family’ to relinquish my personal space to for the rest of my life. No, just kidding…( slap yourself if you actually thought I was kidding…sigh) But actually, as crazy as I may be most times, as unconventional as my thought process may be, there’s that part of me that has always remained traditional and so,  I’ve always respected marriages and will really soon like to have a family of my own. Yes, that means I want to get married. (I’m not looking forward to the whole drama of having a big ceremony, spending money that should be used in securing my husband and I our first plot of land. Well, I’m not that serious… No, I really am being serious there.)

Being 25 means, every other month, you look on Facebook and find one classmate or the other is engaged, is getting married or heck, having her second child. And you’re behind your computer trying hard not to think there’s something wrong with you! Heck, you may or may not even be in a relationship. having children??? Wait what? I just learnt the other day how to keep track of my period and what not to eat when I’m expecting my period and there you are having children.

Being 25 is almost awful. Don’t get me wrong, I wake up each morning and thank God for keeping me alive and each time anyone asks me how I’m doing, I tell them I’m blessed. I’m actually blessed. At 25, I have a job doing what I’ve always wanted to do since I was in JSS three/7th grade/ form three. I’m a reporter. I go around sticking tape recorders in people’s faces asking them questions that sometimes make them uncomfortable, taking pictures of people who are sometimes a bit narcissistic as I am. (Ha- I’m just being dramatic. Life is indeed great.)
The 14 year old me will be happy with me. I’ve fulfilled that dream. Now. It’s time to be an adult, maybe like go onto some career that fetches me money, so I can travel the world like adults do…

I could go on forever, but if the little I’ve typed above doesn’t spell out mid-20’s crisis then, I’m crazy.

Now, what’s really on my mind is: can it be 5 already? I want to go home and have some salad and some of the turkey I cooked on Sunday. I can’t be bothered with all these grown up thoughts! I’m only 25 for goodness’ sake!

bye!