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Since I’ve been in my 20s and in my established friend group of more twenty-somethings, I’ve heard the same thing over and over, most of the time in a random sliver of conversation: “Twenty-five was a good year for me.”

See, most of my friends are between about 23 and 25, and, being one of the youngest, I’ve had my eye on the big two-five, wondering how it will feel to be five years away from 19 and five years away from 30. 

Gosh.

I know most of you are laughing at my “25 is scary” column, but remember being in your twenties? The world, just out of reach. Dreams on the horizon, nightmares hopefully left behind. 

I’ve admitted to my friends that I am absolutely afraid of turning 25. Mostly, because I entered my twenties with expectations for 25, but if you read my last column, you might’ve noted that expectations are just handmade by natural-born sinners like myself. In other words, it’s always a million times better to drop your expectations and let God handle the rest. 

My friends have responded to my “afraid of 25” comments by saying, “Why? What exactly are you afraid of?”

“I’m not sure,” I always say. “It’s just a big year, and I’ll be on the back end of being in my twenties. That’s scary!”

“No, no. Twenty-five was my best year,” they repeat. They explain that the year they turned 25 was when they either found themselves, the Lord, their best friends, moved to the area, etc. All good things. 

Me? Like I said, I’m not sure what I’m so scared of. Perhaps I’m thinking of the year I turned 20 and was no longer living in my childhood home. Or when I was 21 and Covid took over the world. Or when I was 22 and found out I’d been cheated on. Or when I was 23 and hit rock bottom with my self image. 

I know how all this sounds, but I’ve had a really great past few years. The notes above were just obstacles that made me stronger and challenges that made me sweat. 

Last year, when I turned 24, my amazing boyfriend sat across from me on our date and asked, “What do you want out of 24?”

I think I said something like, “By this time next year, I want to be more confident. I miss who I used to be when I was twelve. I loved myself so much and was really proud of who I was. I want to embrace that girl this year.”

Over the span of the following year, I took strenuous steps to do just those things, and I can look back to last spring and finally be proud of how far I’ve come. 

On Wednesday, I turned 25 years old. 

And I lift my glass to welcome another great year. In fact, I lift my glass to invite an even better year before me, kind of like I did over New Years, when I was swept into 2024 on laughter, glitter, and song. 

I’ll get to know 25 personally this year and see just how thrilling she is.