For the longest time I’ve felt lost. It’s almost become a personality trait at this point and something I identify with so strongly that I can’t separate myself from that one word, “lost”. I thought I had done all the things that I needed to do: I went to school, made a few friends, attended university, graduated, and got myself a well paying job. Since then I’ve used my time (and money) to indulge in some of my favourite things…travelling to new places and attending concerts - there’s nothing quite like it. Whenever you’re in a new city or standing in the crowd at a concert of your favourite artist it’s almost as if you’re rewriting who you are; you can be whoever you want to be in those moments. Every single person around you is a stranger and yet…when you stop for a moment you have this overwhelming realisation that even though no one knows you, neither do you.
I’m approaching a milestone birthday and maybe this is why I am completely and utterly spiralling but I have never felt so overwhelmed, so defeated, or so lost. I stood in my shower last week thinking about all the things I wanted to say in my first essay and my thoughts flashed through my mind too quickly to eloquently put them down in writing but I’ll try.
I’m not sure if it’s the fact that I’m leaving the chapter of my beloved 20s behind and entering into my 30s but I’m scared. I sit with the feeling that I am so incredibly privileged to be ageing but at the same time I feel so behind. I stood in that shower questioning everything. Did I do everything I wanted to do in my 20s? Have I done enough? Am I enough? I thought back to my hopes and dreams as a child and wondered if I’d made 'little me' proud. It was at this point that I started to cry because I felt such a strong “no” enter my heart. I don’t think I have made her proud. I realised that I don’t have the job I dreamed of having, I don’t look the way I thought I would at this age, and I wonder if I did a huge disservice to younger me by not being more ambitious in my career. I think at some point I started prioritising my comfort and became such a homebody that maybe I missed out on certain aspects of life. I was happy though, so why am I so hard on myself?
I was in Rome recently on a mother-daughter trip with my mum (naturally) and as we explored the little streets and neighbourhoods on our final day we did what we do best: chat about life - the good and the bad, the sweet and the sour. It was going well until my mum suddenly said, “I think you’ve settled in life”. I immediately got defensive and went straight to asking “what do you mean?”, she simply repeated herself. My frustration grew and I asked her for examples (because that’s how I work best) and she answered with, “you used to have all these dreams and things you wanted to do and I feel like you’ve forgotten about all of them”. The defensiveness continued because as we walked along all I could think about was how at one point the things I used to dream about were suddenly no longer of interest to me. I used to dream about fashion and writing articles for a magazine, often cutting out pictures from magazines and attempting to create my own. I would live my The Devil Wears Prada life, only without the toxicity and drama.
As time went on and I gained experience in that field I realised that there was so much judgement and, for want of a better word, “bitchiness” amongst people I probably would’ve called my colleagues. I had enough of that at a school and almost silently decided that wasn’t the route I was going to take. I moved onto a well paid job that saw my value and rewarded me for working hard rather than making me feel obsolete or replaceable. I had attended some smaller fashion week events and brand events and saw that even on a smaller scale I would get those looks…you know the ones, the side glances from more popular creators or the clique of girls that would always attend events together. They were more seasoned and they knew it whereas I was just a fish out of water…I wouldn’t last. I guess I didn’t.
It’s funny because I look back on my life so far and I can pinpoint the exact moment I had my first regret. Unfortunately, little did I know, that would be the start of a small domino effect of regrets tick-tacking at the back of my mind haunting me with the decisions I could’ve made. I need to remember though that the choices I made led me exactly to where I am now. A roof over my head, a strong family bond, a loving relationship with a man who only sees my strengths, and a dog so cute that my camera roll often threatens to overwhelm my phone storage at the drop of a hat. My life is full of love and yet I choose to see the negative. I’m aware of this flaw in my perspective but I find it so hard to change.
At what point can I expect to feel completely content? My mind feels turbulent at best and I live in constant fight or flight mode so much so that I forget what it’s like to give my nervous system a break. I dream of the day that my life sounds like that saxophone cover of ‘Sparks’ by Coldplay. To some the lyrics are sad/melancholy and yet this particular instrumental version paints a picture of better days, pure happiness, the pinnacle of success in my mind.
I want to stay in my 20s because it’s where I feel safest and I know I’ve got more to give to these years. I want to hold onto that youthful charm and make younger me proud because she deserves it. I long for inner peace and I can only hope that my 30s feel like an extension of my 20s in the best way possible. I can’t promise that the 'lost' feeling I drag around with me day after day will subside but maybe it can be extinguished gradually.
What about my dreams? I hear you ask.
Dreaming doesn’t stop forever but it can get put on hold, so I as hit publish on my first essay I make a pledge to start dreaming again.
I deserve it and so do you.
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