Confessions of a Twenty Something

As a young woman living out her twenties, there are so many things I wish I could scream into the nothingness. My desire to climb a mountain and empty my lungs of all their air to shout my confessions can be quite overwhelming. Now this platform may be no mountain top, but it can be a place to shout the confessions that I feel many of us may be bottling up. 

Confession: Therapy is the number one reason I was able to change my life. 

At 23, I hit one of my lowest points when I realized my life was changing and there was nothing I could do to stop it. No matter how hard I tried to stay in the comfort of my usual well-known routine, my life was changing. 

Therapy was always surrounded by this stigma, and I was afraid of what others might think if I chose to start going. I was afraid a therapist wouldn’t be able to help me. Then came the daunting task of actually finding the right therapist. Not to mention that, as an introvert, the thought of talking to a stranger about the darkest parts of my life was pretty terrifying. 

Now that I’m about a year and a half into therapy, I’m almost mad that I didn’t go sooner. The amount to which we pack away our trauma and emotions, and act like we aren’t dragging that baggage with us only slows us down. I was afraid to even start the search, and I wish I would have pushed myself to do so sooner. 

Confession: I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing. 

That feels good to get off my chest. I feel clueless. Hopeless. Helpless. 

When I started my first adult job, they sat us down on an 8 hour Zoom call and we went through meeting after meeting of people talking about benefits, retirement, policies, you name it. So much of the language used made it feel as if we were expected to already know the ins and outs of how it all worked. I felt incompetent not understanding the difference between the many plans, options, retirement funds, and whatever other big adult things were brand new to me. 

…Honestly, it’s been three years and I’m still confused. 

Confession: Imposter syndrome is real and it SUCKS! 

Not only do I feel like an imposter adult, I feel like an imposter working towards a career shift. 

I felt like an imposter when I was first hired as a teacher. It didn’t matter that I spent a full year as a student teacher or four years studying the field. I felt like I was pretending. Now trying to switch careers, I feel even more like an imposter! I’m a 25 year old playing pretend. 

When recently chatting with a friend who works in marketing, she reassured me that this is completely normal. In fact, she feels like an imposter half the time. Once you can prove to yourself that you can and are doing the job, that feeling will begin to subside. 

Confession: I don’t always want to party.

Social media makes it seem like you should still be this party animal in your twenties. That we should be working all day and partying all night, but don’t tell an older coworker you’re tired because they’ll swiftly respond “oh, you’re too young to be this tired”... who said exhaustion had an age limit? 

Most times I would much rather have a lazy night in with friends than relive those college years of being out till’ 3 am Thursday-Sunday. Give me a glass of wine, a cozy blanket, and a binge worthy show or a good game; I’ll be good to go and in bed by 10. 

Confession: Staying home was a fantastic decision.

When I moved home from college and got my first job, I started scrolling apartment websites like it was social media. I was so ready to be out and on my own. 

Since I started my career in 2020, it made sense to stay home. It was hard to find somewhere to live in the midst of a pandemic. But then I saw how quickly I was saving money. I didn’t have a ton of bills. I could start to put big payments down on student loans, and I had my strongest support system when I came home. 

I’ve now lived at home for 3 years and have been working towards investing in a home instead. Looking back, not leaving right away was the best decision. There is no shame in building yourself a strong ship to eventually sail instead of tossing together a raft and hoping it works out. (There is also no shame in fighting for your raft). 

Confession: I still don’t know if I’m making the right decisions.

With the idea of potentially shifting careers, I’m always questioning if I’m making the right decision. It’s hard making big life choices without knowing what the repercussions will be. 

Recently someone shared with me the concept that our decisions aren’t “right and wrong”, they’re more so “right and left” decisions that will take you different ways. The right decision could be best for me and the left decision may be better for you, but neither are wrong. 

Confession: I value experiences over materials.

Growing up, it was cool to have the newest toy, devices, game, the material things. If you didn’t get the sideways sliding phone with a full keyboard in middle school circa 2011, you weren’t cool. If you didn’t wear the trendiest dress, your prom pictures didn’t get as many likes. I used to concern myself with fitting in and valuing the material things. It felt like the material things determined the quality of your life. 

I learned that these will disappear. There will always be a newer, cooler phone. Clothing trends change. Instagram likes have no value. Instead, I have come to value experience. 

Concerts, road trips, girls days, comedy shows. Yes these also cost money, but going with friends, creating the memories, and reminiscing with the photos will never change. It can’t be recreated or become outdated. It’s a unique moment in time that I will forever cherish. (Don’t worry, I still have my One Direction posters somewhere…maybe some material things are worth it). 

Confession: I don’t have a lot of friends.

I have a few, don’t get me wrong. There are many people who I consider friends and love to catch up with on occasion, but I only have a few real friends. 

For the longest time, I thought I was lonely because I didn’t have a huge friend group that I would see all the time. However, I quickly realized keeping my close-knit group has more value than a wide range of friends. I know who I can trust, I know who has my back. I care about all of my friends, but I’m okay with keeping my inner circle small. 

Confession: I’m (indirectly) thankful for the crap I went through.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not a fan of the fact that I got absolutely beat with the trauma stick (does that count as trauma dumping? My bad), but it made me who I am. How I handled it, how I fought my battles, it all made me stronger. 

I don’t condone it. The things that I’ve experienced shouldn’t be accepted. However, I do accept that it did happen and that I have changed for the better because of it. That’s not to say it wasn’t hard! 

Confession: I romanticize life, and that’s okay.

Yes, I know life isn’t a movie. I can’t always expect a happy ending or continuously expect some miraculous plot twist to save the day. But I can’t help but to play the summer playlist, roll my windows down, and soak up a carefree life for a matter of minutes. I can’t help but dream up a fairytale road trip that would produce a lifetime of memories. Who says I can’t find the dancing-in-the-kitchen moments and soak up that cloud-nine feeling. 

I don’t always romanticize life. I understand this is the real world. But sometimes romanticizing life is the little escape I hold onto when the world typically looks so gray. 

The hard truths: 

• I can’t do it on my own. Good friends and good therapy have helped. 

• I’m still learning, and that’s okay. 

• There are no wrong decisions. 

• It’s okay to follow your own timeline, no one said you’re a failure for doing what’s best for you. 

  • If they did, they aren’t worth your time. 

• Failure is a part of success. 

• I’m scared of growing up. 

• I’ll be okay.