In the middle of October, I turned 29—and noticed a change in people’s eyes when I talked to them about future plans. When you talk about your dreams at 24, people feed on your excitement and gush support. At 29, furrowed eyebrows and hesitancy accompany conversations of this nature, like Age 30 is a window slamming down on your neck as you’re trying to snatch the pie cooling on the sill.
— Susannah Young, in her Unbest entry
I’ve been feeling a little nervous about my impending birthday — 24, in less than two weeks — for no good reason. I don’t like that I’m about to settle into my mid-20s and don’t have things entirely figured out. But this reminds me that being this age (in New York, no less, where I’m working on building a life) is actually a luxury.
