ARE 20s YOUR BEGINNING OR THE DEADLINE?

Ah, the big 20s!

When I was little, I always imagined my dolls were in their twenties. Most of us probably did. It just felt like the perfect age to experience everything- freedom, travel, love, friendships, fashion, adventure. The twenties were supposed to be magical. They were supposed to be bigger than childhood and brighter than adolescence.

I just turned twenty, and somehow, everything I imagined has faded into the background.

Instead of dreaming about places I want to see, I find myself thinking about getting a job, buying a house, owning a car, building a lifestyle, becoming financially secure, taking care of my parents, helping my siblings, and preparing for a future that seems to arrive faster every day.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped seeing myself. MY YOUNGER SELF!

The girl who thought she would travel the world, make friends in different countries, go bungee jumping on a random Tuesday, swim with sharks, and stand at the edge of the world just because she could.

Instead, I am rushing toward something I cannot even clearly define.

It feels like there isn’t enough time. Like if I don’t make it now, I never will.

I know that can’t possibly be true. At least, I want to believe it isn’t. Yet there is a part of me that is terrified of finding out.

The strange thing is that I still have nine more years left in my twenties. Nine years. That’s almost a decade. And somehow, it still feels like a countdown.

It feels like I have been given an invisible deadline to figure out my entire life before my age changes from a 2 to a 3.

And maybe that’s the biggest lie we’ve been taught.

Somewhere along the way, society quietly turned our twenties into a race. We are expected to discover our passion, build a career, earn money, travel, find love, settle down, become independent, and somehow remain happy while doing all of it.

We scroll through social media and see people our age launching businesses, getting married, moving abroad, buying homes, and achieving milestones that make us question our own pace.

What we rarely see are the years of uncertainty behind those achievements.

We don’t see the wrong turns.

We don’t see the failures.

We don’t see the nights spent wondering if they’re making the right decisions either.

We compare our unfinished stories to someone else’s highlight reel and convince ourselves we’re falling behind.

But behind whom?

Life has never been a single road with one finish line.

Some people find their purpose at twenty-two.

Some at thirty-five.

Some at sixty.

Some change their minds three times before finding what feels right.

And maybe that’s not failure.

Maybe that’s what living actually looks like.

The truth is, our twenties were never meant to be a deadline. They were meant to be a beginning.

A decade of trying.

A decade of learning.

A decade of making mistakes and surviving them.

A decade of becoming.

Perhaps the goal isn’t to have everything figured out by twenty-five.

Perhaps the goal is to remain curious enough to keep figuring things out.

The younger version of me believed that being twenty meant freedom.

Maybe she wasn’t completely wrong.

Maybe freedom doesn’t look like having all the answers.

Maybe freedom is realizing that you don’t need all the answers yet.

That it’s okay to take the trip later.

To switch careers.

To start over.

To change your mind.

To grow into someone you never expected to become.

So are your twenties a start or a deadline?

I think they’re neither.

They’re a bridge.

A messy, confusing, beautiful bridge between who you thought you would be and who you’re still becoming.

And maybe the point isn’t to cross it as quickly as possible.

Maybe the point is to look around while you’re on it.

Make your mistakes. Live your 20s. Be crazy. Find yourself instead of fitting in.

There is so much life waiting beyond the version of success you’ve been taught to chase.

So take a breath, trust your pace, and keep going.