Congratulations, you’ve reached your twenties. Or maybe you’ve been here for a while, in which case, same. Either way, they probably don’t look quite like you thought they would. Maybe you imagined you’d be a rising indie filmmaker by now, living in a loft complex with massive windows and neatly labelled herb jars. Maybe you thought you’d have at least learned how to boil an egg with a soft yolk, or how to take up your jeans or whatever “engineering” means.
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But life doesn't work out that way, does it? One moment you're graduating with an Art History diploma under your arm and a spring in your step, and the next you've been living in a mouldy house share with terrible transport links for three years, with the same nose ring you've had since you were 17 and a minor yet unsustainable coke habit.Well, don't stress. Your twenties are where you do a lot of the painful learning that will come to define and shape you later. There will be highs, there will be lows and you will hopefully emerge from this extra fun decade as a more self-assured, carefree and confident version of yourself. Or so I've been told. Before then, though, here's every single crisis you'll have in your twenties, usually at 2AM while lying awake in bed or staring wide-eyed into a nightclub bathroom mirror.Looking at photographs of your parents in Kickers and Lacoste sweatshirts where they look exactly like the ones you take of your mates on disposables, you have a realisation. My parents were this age when they met, had me, graduated uni or bought a house. That doesn’t happen anymore so what’s my timeline now? Do I just trust that I’ll have all these things by 29, like the influencers?My skin will be glowing, my brain a well-oiled machine, you consider smugly as you tuck into a bowl of tabbouleh and mackerel on a Friday night before attempting to watch some “Yoga with Adriene” on YouTube. But instead you glance at your Insta stories and realise literally everyone apart from you is out somewhere, in a club, surrounded by hot braless people, living, laughing and loving their way through their this entire decade while you slowly crunch on a dry Ryvita. Which is it then, you bonehead?
When do I grow up?
Health vs. feeling ALIVE
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What am I?
I’m not earning enough, why would a woman want to be with a broke worm like me?
The gap year
The planet is dying
Will I ever not live with four other people?
Do I even like all my friends?
Am I ageing indie rocker or tasteful Cos mom?
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