So, here I am, standing on the other side of 25 (and, okay, 26 too), still wondering how I don’t know how to balance a checkbook, cook a proper meal, or make my bed like a functional adult. I mean, don’t get me wrong—some things do make sense, like how cereal never tastes as good as it looks on the box or that I should probably change my sheets more than once a month. But there are so many things I should know by now that I definitely do not.
By this age, I was convinced I’d have a routine. You know, wake up at 6 am, meditate, make a healthy breakfast, go for a jog, have a productive workday, and maybe write a novel in the evening. Instead, my routine is basically don’t forget to eat, and maybe I’ll shower, maybe not. Adulting has a whole lot more “winging it” than I anticipated. I wake up at the last possible minute, forget to eat breakfast, and spend an embarrassing amount of time searching for my shoes before I can leave the house. I’m the person who actually gets stressed when someone asks what my plans for the week are. Planning? What’s that?
The idea that I'd have a flourishing savings account and a solid grasp of investments by now? Hilarious. I’m still figuring out the difference between a balanced fund and a money market fund, and I’m convinced “budgeting” is a myth invented to torture me. I’m still doing that thing where I check my bank balance and wince like I'm about to discover I’ve been robbed. In my defense, it’s really hard to save when coffee is life, and that cute thrift dress is calling my name. Does anyone actually understand taxes? Asking for a friend.
Every time I thought I'd “figured it out,” life threw a curveball. So here I am—doing my best, but sometimes the "together" is more like "pieces scattered on the floor, but hey, it’s fine." Apparently, there's no magical age where you wake up and think, Yes, I have it all together. I suspect that’s just something people tell themselves to feel better.
I really thought by now, I’d be hosting dinner parties with homemade dishes that make people go, "Wow!" Instead, I’ve mastered the art of eating one type of meal all week and pretending that instant noodles are a gourmet meal. And don't get me started on supplies shopping—half the time I forget the most basic things, like onions. (How do I forget onions? It's onions,Mary!)
I used to think by now I’d have a well-maintained group of friends that I regularly meet for brunch and deep philosophical discussions. Instead, I’m scrolling through Instagram on Saturday nights, wondering why I’m not out somewhere with those people, you know—the ones who have their lives together. Well, it’s because I said no to all plans, stayed in my pajamas, and had a date with my couch. Don’t judge me.
I thought by this age, I’d have an unshakable mindset, be totally zen, and just know how to handle stress. In reality? I’m still Googling “how to stop overthinking” every time my brain decides to run a marathon at 3 a.m. Sometimes, I have a bad day, and that’s okay. I guess no one really ever has this one nailed down, and that’s...relieving, in a weird way.
I thought by now, I’d have a clean, organized space, with a flawless calendar of everything I need to do. But in reality? I’m lucky if I can find my books, my phone, or my motivation to clean the kitchen. My inbox is a disaster zone, and I’m starting to think I might never actually find the end of the laundry pile.
People keep telling me to “just be confident” like it’s a switch I can flip. But I’m still trying to figure out how to walk into a room without feeling like everyone’s secretly judging me (They probably aren’t). Confidence is apparently a lifelong battle, and I'm just out here doing my best, okay? I’m still pretty much just figuring out how to have a conversation with people without accidentally oversharing or saying something that sounds way too dramatic for the situation. Or worse, having the conversation end with that awkward “okay, well, talk soon” that really means, “I’ll probably never talk to you again.”
I really thought by now I’d have it all figured out: how to communicate, how to navigate conflicts, how to maintain a healthy relationship. But nope. I still overthink everything, apologize for things I didn’t do, and sometimes forget that relationships need more than just a “Hey, I’m here” text. But I’m working on it, so that counts for something, right?(Could as well blame it on distance and different time zones)
By my age, I thought I’d have life figured out to the point where I could handle anything that came my way with grace and poise. But nope, sometimes life throws a curveball, and I’m still out here dodging it, trying to maintain some level of dignity. I guess some things just come with practice—like learning to laugh through the chaos.
So, here I am, still figuring it out. Here I am, in my mid-twenties, just trying to avoid crying in public but at least I’m doing it with a sense of humor (and coffee in hand). And if you’re in the same boat, just know you’re not alone. We’ll figure it out...eventually. Probably. Or maybe not. Either way, we’re doing great.
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