A Letter to 25


Dear 25,

Look at me, I’m 25! 25, 25, 25, 25, 25, 25, 25, 25!

25, we’ve only been together for 24 hours but I’m already enamored with you. I like that you’re divisible by 5, that you’re 5 squared, and among other things, that you’re the exact definition of “mid-20s.” In my opinion, you’re the perfect age. See at 25, I’m out of the cheap beer and shots years, but not yet into the stretch of life where I should be owning property/having children/sporting Spanx/being a fully functioning adult. So while I try and be a together human being as much as possible, I’m still allowed to rock hot mess moments and blame it on you 25.

IMG_1814^^ Friday night, my parents and I tried Black Forest German restaurant in Fort Greene and instantly fell in love. Potato dumplings, sausage, mashed potatoes, incredible beer — it was the best start to the birthday weekend. I even wore my best plaid for the occasion.^^

25, I wrote you an entire letter during yoga class on Sunday, complete with beautiful metaphors and profound thoughts (naturally) but instead of taking pen to paper afterwards, I grabbed a train to Central Park and spent the afternoon picnicking with all the other residents of New York. The main thing I realized in that class though was that 25 is the first age in which I’m incredibly confident and comfortable in myself as a person yet excited to keep grow. This makes me incredibly happy.


It’s hard to put into words how amazing this weekend has been. The entire time — almost all month actually — I’ve felt so loved — like from my pinkie toes to the tippy top of my pony tail. I got videos from friends all around the world, Imali and Maria surprised me at midnight with crepes and jewelry, my family took me to see Finding Neverland, my voicemail was full of people singing, and of course, all the lovely mail. I am so humbled and grateful to be friends with such incredible, caring people who take the time to make me feel like a queen even hundreds of miles away. And while these two words can’t at all encompass all my appreciation, they’ll have to do for now: Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Now 25, back to you. This weekend we blew it out of the park, am I right?

My family and I decided to take a bit of a relaxed Saturday (which still includes 8 miles of walking) and found ourselves meandering down to the Brooklyn Bridge Park to see the stain glass house, ride the carousel, and enjoy Shake Shack under the cloudless blue sky. Then it was off to Tasty Handpulled Noodles (there is a slim chance they might have given me food poisoning, but I still love them) and to Finding Neverland, Broadway’s lastest hit about the author of Peter Pan.

Then home to crepes and flowers and presents and a compilation video that made me sob (more of this later) and a bit of sleep before the real birthday took place. I’m mostly curious how when my actual birthday rolled around everyone wasn’t like, How are we still celebrating this?! You get one day, ONE DAY! This is nonsense.

I always find such comfort in being around my family because no matter the situation, they never fail to bring out my most natural, odd, confident, authentic self. So getting to spend my birthday, not only in New York but, with them was quite the dream come true. For my actual birthday, we had a picnic in Central Park, waited in line for the eternally long Central Park bathrooms, explored the city, ate all the Mac and Cheese and beer in Brooklyn, and ended the night with whoopie pies and kitten cuddles back home. It was all just perfection.

So 25, I can’t wait to get to know you better and spend time taking adventures around the East Coast, writing articles that give my writing senses the warm fuzzies, and working up the courage to do a headstand. Cheers to us!

IMG_1832^^ This was one of my favorite pictures from the weekend. Took a quarter of a century but I’m finally starting to look like my mum.  ^^

One thought on “A Letter to 25

  1. Pingback: 11 Life Lessons Learned From Living With Maria Rohani | The Curious Case of Carly Christine

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