I’ve spent so much of my life worrying. Worrying about where I’m going to be in 5 years. How I’m going to be successful. Why I feel frozen sometimes. Why I can’t get out of bed most weekends. Worrying about my degree and how I’m going to balance everything. If I’ll ever make the right friends or get into the right relationship. How everyone else seems to be managing better.
Sometimes it feels like my brain is constantly whirring.
I turned 21 last week. It feels like I’m wasting my twenties, because everybody else is enjoying the golden years that you’re promised when you’re that age, and I can never enjoy the moment. It’s hard to fully enjoy the birthday celebrations and the meals out, the shopping sprees and the spa days with your best friend when you feel like something bad is always coming. Wondering if everything will actually fall into place. Whether things will get better. Whether life will improve and I’ll finally know what I want for the rest of my life.
The day I turned 20 I found myself in a rat race I didn’t sign up for. Constant competition. Realising that you’re graduating soon and need to get your life together. Thinking about what everybody else is doing and how they’re doing it so seamlessly. The comparison.
But there’s a few things I’m trying to remember to get through it all. To remind myself, that whilst everything feels impossible now, it’s going to be okay. Everything is going to work out, despite the chaos.
Finding joy in the little things.
The most cliché thing I’ve written since I started Substack. But it’s something I’m really trying to learn. The Spanish lessons I have with my teacher from Peru, lessons that I love so much because we do nothing but gossip and laugh about the most futile things. The attractive boy in the airport that I’ll probably never see again. The Japanese restaurant I tried in a quiet street in Granada that was some of the best food I’ve ever had. The ice cream in Sardinia and the beautiful dress I bought last week.
I’ve gotten so used to placing importance on the “big” things — the career and friendship group and the grades — that I completely overlook the little things. The small parts of my day make me appreciate life. The conversations with friends and the upcoming concert that I’m so excited for.
I may not know what’s going to happen 5 years from now, but I can learn how to control the present. I can learn to appreciate the trendy coffee spot that opened last week and the customer at work that complimented my outfit. Because whatever happens next, I’m going to be okay.
And that brings me on to my next point.
You will get through whatever happens.
I think to 4 years ago. I think to the person I was when I was 17, feeling like things were never going to get better. I think of the “bad” grades and the growing pains and the unreciprocated crushes. I think of the debilitating pressure I felt to be good enough. The examinations that I’d always underperform in and the insecurity I felt about who I was.
I think about how I got through it all. How, though it felt impossible in the moment, I managed to move past it. I managed to turn everything around. I’m at the university I wanted to go to and I’m starting my year abroad in 3 weeks. All the things that were eating me alive 4 years ago I barely think about now.
Of course, there were things that didn’t work out. I’ve ended friendships and things have changed in a way that I never thought it would. But I’ve learnt to ride the wave. To accept things as they come, because I’ll find eventually a way to move past it. Even if it takes longer than expected.
In the 21 years that I’ve been alive, I’ve managed to get through it all. All the problems and the insecurities and the arguments at 12am. I’ve gotten through a horrifically difficult second year and I’m moving past the anxieties of being a young adult.
I’ve learnt to remind myself that everything is going to be okay. Because for the last 7676 days it has been. And so it’s going to be okay for all the days to come.