The good, bad, and ugly of being in your 20's
The hardest period in life is one’s twenties. It’s a shame because you’re your most gorgeous, and you’re physically in peak condition.
“The twenties are the hardest years of your life. It’s a shame because you’re your most gorgeous, and you’re physically in peak condition. But it’s actually when you’re the most insecure and full of self-doubt. When you don’t know what’s going to happen, it’s frightening.” — Helen Mirren
The twenties start by promising you infinite opportunities and as those years begin to taper you realize that only you can create your opportunities. You begin to realize you are not what others say you are, but you are what you decide to become.
Your twenties allow you to become invincible and invisible at the same time. Your twenties make you realize that the world is flat and that you can be wherever you want and be with whomever you want if you simply will it.
The twenties teach you that nothing is permanent, not the rushes of drunken dancing nor the quiet comfort of reading…that life is uncertain, unimaginably potent, and extremely uninteresting, that the drive of everyday life is an ocean of effort, that the gaps and spaces that no one will ever see are the ones that build character, that to feel like a crumpled piece of parchment is a-okay and imperative. It is the only way you will ever realize that being surrounded by even three people that love you is a fucking achievement.
Sometimes, you just need someone to hear you rant or complain without being judged or preached.
Sometimes you just need to let it all out, without being told what you should do, think, or feel.
This is exactly what friends are for! This is what makes their presence so meaningful in life.
I was feeling really restless. I texted her hoping she would get it.
She was no longer just a colleague. Our daily evening coffee breaks during sunsets gradually led to the start of a beautiful friendship where I started confiding my deepest thoughts and feelings in her.
Me: “I don’t want to grow up!”
Her: “Me neither, man.”
<Relief, that was. I was not alone in this.>
Me: “I want to keep being naive, waste time, and laze around. I’m struggling with handling responsibility.”
<Get all the rants coming!>
Her: “I know. Growing up is so draining. Also, comes without a warning.”
<Good, keep understanding and acknowledging.>
Me: “It’s filled with important decisions that have consequences. What if I want to do five things and not have to pick one?!”
Her: “Ya, like you’re supposed to know what you’re doing with your life. So much pressure!”
<Yes, darling! Shout. Scream. Roar.>
Me: “What if I do not want to do things for hitting the numbers but for the thrill? What if all I want to do is expand and be creative and not be shut down by data?”
<Yes, join her in her rebellion.>
Her: “Our whole life now revolves around our jobs. Make the time stop, man! I have a feeling it’s only gonna get worse every year.”
<Make your point stronger. Substantiate!>
Me: “What if the weekend wasn’t the only time I get time for myself? To do things I want and be carefree? Know what I mean?”
Her: “Yes! Shouldn’t we be doing things we want on all days? Leisure is a fucking luxury now!”
<Looks like more revolts are coming through.>
Me: "What if I don't want to accept that bitter truth? What if we could go for night walks, laze around in the neighborhood park in the afternoon, talk about life, and dream about love? And do it regularly?"
<Let’s show a bit of optimism now, shall we?>
Her: “Yes, that would be the best! But, we can still do that, you know. We will have to ‘make’ time now.”
<No, I am not done yet.>
Me: “Then, you’re supposed to be all productive.. all the time!”
Her: “I feel dumb laughing or goofing around anymore. I am now expected to “lead” — whatever the fuck that means!!”
<Still not done. Sorry, can’t really help it!>
Me: “Don’t care about leading a team. I want to explore now. Heck! I am only 23.”
Her: “I know. What unrealistic expectations?!”
<The decision has been made. Rules have been laid down.>
Me: “I’ve decided I’m not going to ‘act’ so mature in front of people anymore. I’m going to be myself — a confused soul, an impulsive spirit, and a naive kid.”
<Make yourselves feel better now>
Her: “When I think about it, the people I respect the most are those who are certain of themselves and won’t settle for anything less. So, if you’re impulsive and aware of it, that can become a superpower. Steve Jobs was impulsive, just so you know.”
Me: “Fuck adulthood. Fuck everyone. I will follow Steve Jobs.”
<The rage turns into a sudden desolation after a pause.>
Me: “I really don’t want to suppress that impulsive, fun, carefree side of myself. It’s an integral part of who I am.”
Her: “Please don’t! We love that side of you.”
<Then start to question yourselves. Doubt. Overthink!>
Me: “Why are we becoming this way?”
Her: “Yeah. If this is something we strongly about, shouldn’t we do something about it?”
<Think about doing the right thing. Don’t settle. Dissect. Dive into the roots.>
Me: “Something about all of this is making me very uncomfortable. I don’t know if I should be okay with it and let it pass like a phase.”
Her: "Lately, I've come to realize that prolonged feelings are always valid. So we shouldn’t just let it pass."
<I like the way she thinks.>
Me: “I have a solution! Let’s go back to college. Let’s become 18 again! Let’s become idealistic or dreamers one more time.”
<Now it’s the turn for solutions. Take it in. Brainstorm. Think. Ponder. You go, girl.>
Her: “We can’t fix this entirely. Maybe we don’t really need to grow up. We just have to accept certain ways of doing things. I know being carefree all the time is tough, but you can still focus on what truly matters to you.”
Me: “But the things I care about..people don’t really seem to.”
Her: “Things like?”
Me: “Candor. Vulnerability. Well-Being.”
Her: “That’s beautiful.”
Me: “Imagine what it would be like if you actually knew the people you’re surrounded by for 10 hours a day. What if you knew they were going through a rough phase?”
Her: “Exactly! We know nothing about them. It’s always about work.”
<Let the wisdom flow now>
Me: “Makes me so sad.”
Her: "Do something with this in your own little way—like this writing project. You care about it for a reason. You're a unique combination of qualities that won't happen again, so make the most of it."
<End with emotions. Pour all the love.>
Me: “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks for hearing me out. This made me feel we are in this together.”
Her: “Yes, I am weirdly feeling lighter right now.”
“You know, we need to savor the little pleasures in life more often now, like this conversation.”
<Show little acts of kindness.>
Her: Here, I wrote something for you~
“You entered the battlefield as a rebel, asking all the wrong questions to your mom, mixing the two chemicals you weren’t supposed to, skipping sleep to catch up to your novels hiding under your blanket, befriending every new person you meet, laughing too loud, feeling too much and bring too real.
So, don’t shudder when the life in you is stamped as ‘impulsiveness’, or goofiness deemed ‘immature’, the light in your eyes being called ‘unrealistic’. Ask another wrong question. Do something that mixes the dopamine with the adrenaline. Slide under the blanket. Befriend yourself. Love. Laugh. Feel. Make it real.”
