I promised I would post everyday in November, but I had to take a brief break over the last two days because I’ve changed my major and have been preparing to move forward with this new path next semester. This very, very brief sabbatical and the reason for it is part of a bigger truth that I have been hiding from most of my friends and denying to myself; since I turned 20, I have felt like I’m just not doing enough.
For decades, writers like Joan Didion and Eve Babitz have described the uncertainty that comes with entering your 20s, but I always believed that their descriptions were exaggerations. I turned 20 on April 23 of this year, and I felt no different that day than I had on April 22. I figured that finally leaving the torture that is being a teenage girl would feel liberating and that with this newfound freedom, I’d feel empowered enough to take over the world.
I’m about five months shy of my 21st birthday, and I have never felt more lost and confused about what I am supposed to be doing in the next decade. The women in their 40s I encounter tell me that while it’s ok to be confused right now, I’m supposed to spend these next few years dedicated to working so that I can live comfortably in my 30s. The women in their 30s say I will face horrors beyond my comprehension when I approach their age.
In order to figure out life, there must be a certain amount of failure you experience, and I feel like all I’ve been doing lately is failing. I look at my peers, and they seem to have a better idea of what they’re supposed to be doing than I do. I’ve never been good at creating a plan, much less sticking to one, but I’ve always been plagued with existential dread. I feel like I should be doing so much more, but I don’t know what exactly that means and how I’m supposed to get to that point.
I’ve given myself grace because I understand that most people my age probably feel this way and won’t mention it for the sake of ego, but these placations are not comforting enough. I’ve changed my major and spent the past six months trying to figure out how to move forward, but I’m still terrified to face the next decade. I understand that in order to get what I’ve always dreamed for myself, I just have to throw myself out into the world, but even that can induce panic in me.
I’m not sharing this inner turmoil for the sake of sympathy. Maybe no one else feels like this, and I’m projecting my misery into the void. Maybe most people my age actually do know exactly what they are supposed to be doing and have a five year plan they’re able to follow, and I’m the odd duck in this pond.
2025 is less than two months away, and I always start a new year with a vision board made on Pinterest. These boards often have lofty aspirations and a vague organizational system, but I’ve begun to accept that I, as a person, have lofty aspirations and a vague organizational system. For the rest of this year, I’m going to prepare to tackle these aspirations pragmatically. The only way for me to achieve the life I’ve always dreamed of is to face my fear of failure and embarrassment, so I’m going to insert myself into the spaces I feel like I’m meant to be in without the fear of scrutiny. I’m going to be patient and kind to myself without coddling. I cannot keep living a life where I am both afraid and in love with the world.
with love, as always
malaika <3
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