A few months from now, I’m turning 25.
That day I’m going to change my Instagram bio and consequentially post that standard set of pictures of me in front of a cake. I’ll expect my followers and friends to comment with the standard ‘Happy Birthday’ on my social media. I’ll receive presents and cards, but confidently I’ll allow myself, once more, to think about what I’ve achieved in these past 25 years on earth.
Some people will tell me with a smile on their faces that 25 belongs to the beginning of the 20s and that I’m still young. Some other people will be brave enough to make jokes about being closer to the 30s and how old I look. Others, will ask “When are you going to marry?”, “What are your plans for the future?” and other unquestionable questions. I don’t know the answer to any of these.
I’m trying to understand my way around the meaning of existing as a soon to be 25 years old woman within the current society.
The more that day comes closer, the more I find myself reflecting on the weight this number holds not only in my life but how it also affects my fellow women.
In the known society, most of the happy events and sad ones are shared with the public. Pregnancies, marriages, new careers, new cities, everything, and nothing simultaneously is “sharable.” Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, and even TikTok are portals to someone else’s experience. We watch people’s tears in a short videos. We tag the love for our besties in a picture that lasts just 24 hours. We laugh, we scream, we dance to achieve a high number of views and likes.
It seems to me that our entire existence is ruled by numbers.
I do believe in the positive power that social media platforms hold. However, I concluded that these platforms full of numbers have an enormous weight on our life. On one side, there is unlimited knowledge that we can acquire through simple tweets. Just after refreshing our homepage, we can be aware of what is happening on the other side of the world. We can find a virtual community that feels like a family that we could not find elsewhere. However, on the other side of the coin, there is the continuous burden to not be enough. To not have enough followers, to not have achieved high enough grades, to not have studied enough hours in a day, to not have enough work experience compared to the competition, and so many others “not enough.”
Anyways, in a few months, I’ll be 25 years old woman. A woman who’s still not confident enough to understand if she’s looking at the world through the eyes of a grown-up woman or a very old teenager. I’m bold enough to define myself as a “nearly woman” due to these infinite uncertainties surrounding my age.
A “nearly woman” who still enjoys watching Disney princesses fighting for their destiny; who loves Harry Potter even if she’s not a big fan of the author; who is not afraid to define herself as an intersectional feminist, but that still has lots to learn about equality.
I want to add that I have no clue when or if I will marry. I’m not sure in which direction my life is heading, but I’m trying my best not to let my age, gender, and experiences define what I can or cannot do.
I’m trying to educate myself and help you educate yourself into thinking that our numbers don’t define who we are. The number of people who like our posts is not equal to our intelligence, beauty, and worth. I am not fully there yet. It’ll be a lie to write so, however, I’m hopeful that one day I will be. But for now, I’m a “nearly woman” who is “nearly 25”.