Wednesday’s child is full of woe- and editing errors.
It has been 547 days since I last wrote something that wasn’t just in my hardback journal- I’ve been putting off writing ‘publicly’ out of fear I’ll be out of practise [writer’s note during my pre-publishing edit: I’m embarrassingly out of practise and if you see any mistakes that I’ve missed please don’t mention them to me or I might cry]. Even knowing that it’s unlikely many people will read this isn’t doing much to help my nerves about posting something I’m not completely happy with; let’s call it the perfectionist eldest child/older sister in me.
Things I’ve done since since I last wrote an article: got a car, solo travelled 7 countries, got over my debilitating fear of planes, started taking learning French seriously, and graduated university.
Those are the highlights, and as strange as it is to think about achieving Big Adult Things, it’s only fair to share the lowlights, too. Being in your 20s feels like the most drastic, contradictory period I can imagine. I thought it would’ve been my teen years- as suggested by every book, film, and show ever- but instead it’s like every concrete achievement now I’m an adult is accompanied by at least 3 different new worries.
So here goes.
Things I’ve worried about constantly since I last wrote an article: if I’m losing my best friend who moved away, when I’ll finally get a new job when I only know the industry I want and not the actual job, if being passionate about travelling means I’m doomed to grow older and hate my younger self for not travelling even more, if I’ll ever get the hang of clutch control because it feels like I stall constantly, and what my spend-on-memories-versus-save-for-the-future ratio should be.
Talking to my friends means I know these abstract worries aren’t unique to me, but I’m still torn between knowing that there’s no time limit/right answers and therefore I shouldn’t stress about it, and knowing that for as long as I think “what if I was happier if [insert existential thought]?” I won’t be able to let it go.
I’m not sure where to go from here, or even why I’m writing this on Medium knowing that I’m scared for anybody to actually read it, but I hope that putting my thoughts down will help me hold myself accountable for not letting my worries fester.
If they’re something I can act on now, I’ll try to resolve it, and if they’re not, I’ll suppose I’ll have to just try my best to deep dive into ways to come to peace with them.
I wish I had better advice; I wish there was a way for us to only worry about one fixable thing at once.
Until then, best wishes and sorry about any grammar/editing mistakes :) I’m trying!
