This is a bust of a 25 year old woman. Charles Cordier titled it A Young Woman of Trastevere, Aged 25. White marble on associated marble socle. I look at this woman and her powerful gaze, and I wonder what the first quarter of her life consisted of. When I look at her, a sense of calmness washes over me. Something about her demeanor gives me peace.
Today is my birthday. I too, am 25. My statue would be titled “A Young Woman of Atlanta, Aged 25.” I’m thinking about my time on this planet so far and what I’ve made of my life. By now, I thought I would be living in New York. By now I thought I would have a boyfriend. By now I thought I would have graduated from law school. There are a lot of places I thought I would be by now, but now that I am here, I am just grateful to have made it more than anything.
I have seen so many people my age die from mental illness, drugs/alcohol, COVID, you name it. Some of the people I have admired almost all my life never even got to see 25 (Aaliyah, River Phoenix). This year, I have been intertwined with many people in their 30s, and it has only given me assurance that life does not in fact end after you turn 25. We are all just winging it, and while it is ideal to accomplish curing cancer and winning a Nobel Peace Prize before you turn 25, it just isn’t realistic.
My coworker recently reminded me of the things Gen Z has lived through thus far, and it has truly all become a blur. I mentioned how I was six years old and our teachers would make us watch extremly graphic 9/11 videos to “honor” the victims, and they looked at me like I was telling a war story. A conversation needs to be had about that…
When my mom was 25, she was celebrating me being a month old. I couldn’t imagine raising a kid right now. Mentally, sometimes I still feel 18. It isn’t until you’re faced with a big challenge that would make the old you spiral that you realize “Oh. I have grown up.” What do you mean I don’t have catastrophic thinking anymore?
In true adult fashion, this year I have finally decided to invest in myself and my abilities. Sometimes I forget I am a photographer. It was my first college major. I have been taking photos since I was 14 and in my high school’s camera club. I am a writer. A creative. A multi-hyphenate. Just because I am not what I want to be on paper, I am still something.
The next quarter of my life is dedicated to giving love and attention to that little wide eyed girl who planned to be a lawyer at ten years old. That little girl who ended all of her sentences with “I rest my case.” I am doing everything for her. Instead of second guessing my every move, I’m going to move boldly in my actions. When I was twelve, I called the CIA directly from my little Tracfone and asked why they don’t allow real “spy kids.” Albeit insane, I want that confidence and audacity back. I will bring it back. Here’s looking at you, kid.
Happy birthday to you and I hope you get to experience many more!!!