Turning 25
There's something about turning 25 that makes you pause.
It's not just another birthday; it's a quarter of a century, a milestone that demands reflection. You're old enough to see patterns in your life but young enough to completely reinvent them. It's the age where potential starts transforming into actual impact.
This reality really set in last winter in Utah with my dad at the Museum of Natural History. Looking at their pricing board, I noticed that the "Young Adult" rate went up to 24, and then at 25, you're in the full adult category. Standing there, that $2 price difference felt like a perfect metaphor for this phase of life.
The Journey Here
Each age brought its own identity shift. At 13, I stepped into teenage life, testing boundaries and finding my voice. While most of my high school peers were following the usual playbook, I was already sketching out startup ideas and questioning why we had to stick to the standard path.
College at UC Santa Cruz blew everything wide open. Those years were an intense balance of grinding and growth. I'd spend 10+ hours in labs, completely immersed in the work. But I also learned that intense focus deserves its counterweight. I found my rhythm in balancing hard work with genuine connections and experiences.
Meeting people from around the globe and experiencing new perspectives shaped how I saw myself and the world. I mastered the art of being both dedicated and present. You can study hard and still make the absolutely insane memories that college promises.
By graduation at 22, I was ready for my next chapter in Austin. The first few months were a crash course in real independence. Learning to furnish a home from scratch, realizing groceries don't magically restock themselves, and discovering that keeping plants alive is actually a skill. Adult life fully opened up as I balanced corporate work with my own ventures. Austin's pace was different from California; more space to breathe, to think, to build. Every new connection and experience in the city shaped my understanding of not just business, but what I wanted my life to look like.
The change of scenery brought clarity. Sometimes you need to step into a completely new environment to see yourself clearly.
Taking Chances & Getting Lucky
These transitions and changes have shaped my path in ways I never expected. Looking back, I've been incredibly lucky. But luck isn't just about being in the right place at the right time. It's about taking chances when opportunities present themselves. Every significant win in my life came from saying yes when it would've been easier to say no, from taking that extra step when others might have stopped. Sometimes it meant diving into something that seemed too ambitious, other times it meant trusting my instincts when conventional wisdom suggested otherwise.
The thing about luck is that it compounds. Each chance you take, each connection you make, opens doors to new opportunities.
I've learned that luck favors those who stay in motion, who keep pushing forward even when the path isn't clear.
Intentional Living
This mindset of constant forward motion led to some deliberate shifts in how I approach life. I decided to stop drinking entirely, not from necessity, as I was never a heavy drinker, but because I realized I felt sharper, thought clearer, and simply operated better without it.
Around the same time, I made the switch to becoming vegetarian. Years of enjoying steaks and wings gave way to a growing awareness about animal welfare that I couldn't ignore. Neither change was impulsive. They were natural evolutions in how I think about impact and personal choices.
This intentional living extends to relationships too. While I'm still enjoying the casual dating scene and social exploration, there's a different understanding now of what connections mean. Attention comes easily, but I approach it with more self-awareness than I did in college. The truth is, my energy is mainly directed toward growing my ventures and personal development. If something meaningful evolves, great, but it needs to complement my trajectory rather than redirect it.
The Weight of 25
Being officially in my mid-20s means leveraging everything I've learned about my capabilities. Past ventures become pattern recognition rather than just experience. After this, birthdays mostly measure time in broader strokes. The decades ahead are checkpoints rather than transformations. They track progress but don't fundamentally shift what you can do or how society sees you like earlier milestones did.
What matters now isn't the age markers ahead, but what I build between them. The game shifts from counting years to driving impact. I'm learning that success isn't just about the big moments, but the daily choices that shape who you become. The foundation is set, the opportunities are clear, and the next quarter century is wide open.
Time to build.