People are Strange… 6 Reasons Why 20 Is The Weirdest Age

twenties weird age


You’re in the prime of your life. Probably. Possibly. Maybe? Being 20 is the weirdest age ever (even if everyone tries to convince you it’s great).

You know what? I used to like the number twenty. It’s a nice, even, round number. It doesn’t seem particularly significant, other than being the level at which a Magikarp evolves into one of those giant Gyarados things – but it always seemed to me like a nice, stable, adulty age to get to.

But turning twenty is weird. Even just the thought of having been alive for two whole decades frankly scares me. I mean, ten years ago, I was ten. And in another ten years, I’ll be thirty.

People keep telling me your twenties are supposed to be the greatest years of your life, yet they’ve bought me nothing but uncertainty and an endless supply of existential crisis…

You’re not a teenager anymore.

This seems like an obvious one, but it’s true – those rebellious teen years seem so far away now. To all your friends who are nineteen, you seem somehow so much older. (Maybe it’s just me, but twenty sounds so much bigger than nineteen)

Also… if you’re no longer a teenager anymore, what are you? You’re first classed as an adult at eighteen, then again at twenty, but they also say you’re only really an adult at twenty-one.

Which is it? Is it all a big cover-up? Do you ever really get to be an adult at all?

Everyone looks either twelve or thirty-five.

Seriously, what does twenty even look like? We all look like confused tall children being forced to wear grown-up clothes and go food shopping. Despite being able to legally drink for two years now, I still always get ID’d everywhere.

Half your friends are getting married or having babies…

This is probably more personal to my own experience, but I’ve found that once you reach a certain age, becoming pregnant suddenly becomes very popular. You’re not a teen mum, either – you’re just a regular mum. Just to be clear, I’m well aware that there is nothing wrong with having a baby at twenty, or even younger.

It’s just something I’ve begun to notice. I’ve begun to notice it a lot.

The other half are still going out and partying.

While half of your friends are settling down and doing grown-up things requiring responsibility for tiny, vulnerable others, the other half are still getting drunk on a Saturday night and staying out until 3am.

The reason I’m listing this as weird is because there seems to be no in-between; lifestyles just veer from one extreme to another.

You’re old enough for it to be normal to get married and start a career, but you can also still get away with being ‘young’ and ‘reckless’.


Time goes faster.

I’m sure this one will get worse as you get older, but twenty seems to be when you first start to become conscious of how fast time goes. I mean, congratulations: you made it to level twenty! But now what? Add another twenty and you’ll be forty. Before you know it you’ll be retired or in an old people’s home. Not to mention how quickly the weeks seem to whizz by when you’re rushing around doing proper adult things.

You’re in the prime of your life. Probably. Possibly. Maybe?

Your twenties are supposed to be the most fun part of your life, apparently. (Although the years 25 – 31 are technically when you’re considered at your prime). Your fitness and memory are still in top shape, and you’re still young enough to learn new things before you become set in your ways later in life.

All this sounds good, right? But being told your twenties are so amazing makes me constantly worry that they’re not, or at least not in the way I’m spending them. What if I’m wasting the best years of my life? Then I’ll never be able to get them back…

I’m now coming round to the idea that, actually, being twenty means nothing. It’s just a number. I guess what freaked me out most was the notion that being twenty meant you had to have your life in order. But it doesn’t. You don’t have to have things figured out yet.

If you’ve just hit twenty it’s fine to drink up, settle down, or just carry on as you were… and prepare for twenty-one instead.

Unless I’m caught up in its relentless hype, I feel like twenty-one is going to be the big one…