Dear Little Me 💌
Ramblings on feeling excited about your twenties again.
When my parents were my age, they were homeowners, engaged to be married, in stable careers, and on their way to starting their own business. I’m recently unemployed, renting a house share with 7 friends, and still not sure what I want to ‘be’ when I’m older, even after 6 different jobs. As my 24th birthday speeds ever closer like a burning ball of dread, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve somehow made all the wrong decisions. It follows me around constantly, jumping out from behind corners when something doesn’t go right, whispering doubts whenever something does. I think of my younger self with the overwhelming feeling that I’ve let her down. All that hard work she did, and now I can’t seem to figure out what to do with it.
As an overachieving child, I was introduced to the idea of my ‘potential’ from quite a young age - it always felt like an exciting quest, an overflowing treasure chest of reward and validation waiting at the end. As I’ve gotten older though, it now feels more like a burden than an adventure, as something I must live up to, always never quite there yet. A classic tale.
Like most people, I went through school, to sixth form, to university, to a job without stopping. All in preparation for a career that I’d never fully materialised in my head, never given myself the space to think about what I really, actually wanted. I jumped across each stepping stone as I was told, landing perfectly onto the next, and now find myself on the other side of the stream, without knowing how the water felt skimming across my fingertips, how the pull of the current felt around my ankles. Where to now?
I was more sure of myself at 10 years old than at 24. I’m entering my mid twenties and I am not like the older self I’d imagined when I was younger. I didn’t move to another city or have an amazing university experience (thank you global pandemic), I haven’t found the blurry, unformed vision of my ‘dream’ job, I haven’t been to Australia, and I certainly don’t own my own house yet. But I’m still young, and there are so many more versions of myself to come.
The uncertainty is simply a consequence of the fact that I, myself, get to decide what’s next. Of course I have no idea where I’m going, I’m only at the beginning. The rest of the map is open, raw terrain. I will make paths through its changing landscape. I have more rivers to cross and mountains to climb. Now I will stop and look around. There is so much to see. I have so much time.
The treasure chest awaiting me has always been empty, but I’ll fill it with things picked up along the way. In fact, my pockets are pretty full already.
Dear little me, I wonder where we’ll go next?
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