I’m twenty-five. Twenty-five is a big deal, right? I mean, I’ve thought about this. Twenty-five is when your early twenties end. Twenty-five is when you really have to start thinking about calling yourself not a “girl” but a “woman,” regardless of what the women on “Girls” say. Twenty-five is when you should, essentially, have your twenties figured out, as a decade, or something. I think.
I don’t know if there’s an equivalent age for your teen years, which officially begin when you’re thirteen, but could maybe be more accurately said to begin when you get your first period, which means that some of my friends became teenagers when they were [...]