FROM COFFEE TO COCKTAILS
By Celine R. LopezAt 10, you're clever; at 25, you're a backstabber; and at 50, you're pathetic. This is what happens when you stay the same person throughout the years. People need change to evolve; if not, they dissolve into this sad little riddle...
I'm 25, and I find myself in mixed company with thirty-something success stories and cautionary tales. I don't know who's really happy in that bunch. I'm neither of the above, so I wouldn't know. I'm what you call a groupie, for now at least: Silently
observing, silently fearing everything. This I know, though: When you're turning north of your 20s and still don't have a clue, you can bet the last 20 bucks in your ATM account that you're headed for the latter bunch.
At 25, I feel the youngest that I've ever been, in a bad way. When I was 10, I was planning my retirement at 21 with my grandfather. I assured him then that I would have my own house in Forbes, a family and maybe a Benz or two purring in the garage. I'm four years past my deadline, and I'm still struggling to pay my Amex bill. The pressures of being a young success are always welcomed by you, because it's presented to you in such fancy packaging.
This is what happens when you hit 25. You see, we're all very familiar with the concept of midlife crises. It's when middle-aged people feel that this is their last chance and go absolutely mad. For some, they simply quit their jobs and travel the whole world in a hot-air balloon. For others, it's slipping into something tight and live like a rock star. Some start romancing zygotes (Demi?), while signing their
divorce papers. It's that nagging fear that life has been wasted on sorry little things, like thankless jobs and unhappy wives. So the over-the-hiller does himself a favor by living like a mistake-marinated fresh graduate, only they have more money to burn this time around (which makes it more dangerous and entertaining for anyone watching). Somehow, the over-the-hiller starts living a life that he or she wished for themselves when they were young, a life that proved impossible because they were building a future for themselves then.
A quarter-life crisis hits when you realize that you're not young enough to make silly mistakes and not old enough to see any tangible results from your efforts. You feel lost, a prophet of futility. We are an impatient generation. We have been given
too much pressure to succeed. A quarter-life crisis is a midlife crisis in reverse. Instead of liberating yourself from your responsibilities, you marry and incarcerate yourself in it.
I mean, there is absolutely nothing wrong with being goal-oriented. But what does success mean to us these days, anyway? I can tell its meaning has been demoted to figures and office space. When I go out on dates, all it takes is five minutes and I get asked the same old question: "What do you do?" It takes several dates to get to "What do you like doing alone?," "What did you want to be when you were little?," and "How do you spend your free time?" I could be a garden-variety hack/CPA/waitress and my date wouldn't know until several days or weeks later that I actually wrote
haikus, wanted to be an opera singer and can actually sing like one (just one lofty
example). The passion of a person is not synonymous with their success. Success is what job you landed (and settled for), how much you make, what loquacious title decorates your business card and what few status symbols you saved for some dog-and-
pony show.
Kids these days, the ones with promise, want to achieve what their parents achieved in half the time, which is not exactly healthy but thoroughly encouraged.
So, what do we do? We cover all bases with compromised decisions okay jobs, a disastrous spouse, no health care, and heavy on the debt. Adult enough for you?
I've seen enough disasters to save me for a lifetime. So at 25, I'm scared. I'm scared that whatever youthful idealism I still have in me will lead me to the graveyard of forgettable failures. I'm afraid that my drive to succeed will bring me to the wrong place. I'm afraid of what I'll miss out on while I'm busy trying not to
miss out on anything. Most of all, I'm afraid that when I do hit that midlife crisis, it will feel like a rerun.
So, in making choices, a wise man once told me that how the world sees a success is thoroughly different from what a success really is. Much like love and romance at the movies, and love and farts in real life. Just as long as you are a success in your career, you're easily forgiven for your other, more important failures, such as failure in family, relationships and friendships. When you're so busy chasing that ever-elusive magic dragon of success, other things often take a back seat. The worst feeling, he says, is that though you may seem like an outward success to the rest of the world, it's knowing in the pit of your stomach that you are a failure to yourself.
So, at 25, I have not really achieved anything worthy yet. Anything short of never having my cellphone line disconnected, I'm ready to worry about the bigger future. I'll just make sure to worry about the right things, so when I turn 50 I'll be the youngest I've ever been, but in a very good way.
LIFESTYLE FEATURE - SUNDAY LIFE
