I'm turning 25 this year,
And with another passing day I fear,
That I have nothing to show and my life is slipping away.
I mean, I don't know what you've been told,
But even at 20 I thought 25 was old,
Because this is the age you become an adult.
And I'm cracking under the pressure as a result.
I can't deal with all of the responsibility,
I'm at that time and space where I'm still working on my identity,
I'm between being chained by labor and wanting to run wild,
Between learning to be a woman while still wanting to be a child,
Between spending money to explore every thrill,
Or saving that same money because I have to pay bills.
This wasn't where I wanted to be after I got my Bachelor's,
At 22 I told myself at 25 I'd have my Master's.
I'm supposed to have a nice job dating a most eligible bachelor,
But instead I'm serving tables like every other aspiring actor.
Life handed me lemons without an apology,
So I threw them back and told life I was studying psychology.
I'm going to move to Boston and pretend everything's cool.
So at 25 I'll be a first year in graduate school.
Be the first from Washington D.C to study drama therapy,
And bring it back to the city to help my community.
So with my city on my back and my family on my shoulders,
Maybe there's nothing wrong with the fact I'm getting older.
And with a dream this big I can't be afraid to be bolder,
Since I walk with a new purpose I can't let my insecurities tumble over.
Because I'm not too old and I'm not too young,
To fight for more than what I've become.
With a heart that bleeds fire and a passion with hunger,
I''m welcoming 25, age is nothing but a number.