The fantasy is over. Someone is not going to pick you up off your face if you fall financially. There is no cute little credit card with your parent’s last name cleanly listed above yours. You are not Carrie Bradshaw, pretending to survive off the miniscule salary of a columnist, purchasing thousand dollar pumps every time you get dumped. And there’s certainly no gas card; you have to pay the rent. Like so many misguided now twenty something’s, I craved the independence, the modern woman lifestyle that I was told came with each passing birthday. I couldn’t wait to establish my autonomy through parties, trays full of hor d’oeuvres, heels and gorgeous young men to play with. Not so fast.
This is my reality
Hunger pains.
Being in your mid-twenties means there’s never any good food in the fridge. I can’t remember the last time I had a really satisfying meal. I live 3.5 hours from my family so leftovers are a rare occurrence and my mom does not send food via the mail. . I don’t cook because there’s no one to cook for. Each of my meals is small and personalized just for me .No leftovers mean loneliness and overall feelings of being pathetic. That mustard or half empty jar of mayo is not going to fill that void. No family dinners, no rolling my eyes at my annoying 14-year-old sister and no going back for seconds. Nope. I can’t nuzzle my little head into my mother’s overwhelmingly plump chest or lay on her on the family couch. Hell, my couch is covered in my roommate’s cat hair so I’d rather just not sit there at all. A hunk of dry cheese is what I have to look forward to after a night of pounding beers with pals either that or order out from the same (stellar) Chinese restaurant up the block. My favorite chocolate soymilk isn’t overstocked in the back of the fridge and my mother’s deep-dish endless tray of lasagna isn’t there to quell my late night cravings.
That cost how much?
Yep. Remember when it was so easy to spend your parent’s money? I do. My mother gave me a credit card in college that I just felt compelled to use. Use on gas, groceries, sometimes I’d even pay my bar tab with it. Now, I walk into a store or restaurant and say to myself (or the cashier) “That hummus is how much? You’re robbing me!” When you have bills and expenses suddenly ordering out for sushi or blowing money at the bar doesn’t seem to be a top priority. I’d rather use that money on a new skirt or save for a plane ticket to Europe, cuz oh yea; I’m buying those now too.
Vampires.
Ladies if you’re in your mid twenties, or approaching them, you suddenly become prey for that older 36-42 year old male. You know, the one that isn’t married and somehow seems to be attending every party you do, the one with the alcohol tolerance of a, well a 40 –year-old man that has been partying every night for the past 20 years. Yea, that guy. Hold up. At first, you may think that access to a bunch of parties and the free drinks rock, cuz they do, but it gets to a point when you’re literally attending the same party and drinking the same beer and fighting off the same 40-year-old guy at the end of the night. The only thing that’s changed is your outfit. Hang around him some more and keep wondering why you’re still single. You’ve befriended your cock-blocker. This guy is looking for the same thing every other guy is looking for but he’s 15 years your senior. You have to think “Do I want to grow old with someone or rejuvenate someone else’s life by giving them a second chance with MY youth?” Beware of the vampire; these guys probably even look like them once they get naked anyway. Procreate with someone your own age.
Let’s get serious… maybe.
On the subject of dating, you start to really question the people you spend your time with and date. “Is he the one? Am I really going to have kids with this guy? Am I willing to mix my genes with his? Whoa, Is this what I really want?” Before you overwhelm yourself with panic, you have to realize that yes it is starting to matter who you date, but you can still have your fun. This is that age when people you know are getting married, even divorced, and you’re probably next. You have to really figure out whom you’re going to spend your time with and what they’re doing with their lives and how it fits into yours. It’s hard to imagine rotting away with someone who just puked cheetos into your garbage can after a night of drinking…on a weekday. But hey, if you’re willing to hold the garbage can for them, you just may be willing to dive into a full-blown marriage too. Who knows?
Getting older isn’t easy, especially when you’re caught in between paying bills, health insurance policies and figuring out which slutty costume you can pull off this Halloween. Things can get serious, very fast and the responsibility falls on you. Now is the time to start growing up… a little.
