We Are Only in Our Twenties

I went out one night recently with an acquaintance who I had not seen in a while. With graduation quickly approaching for myself and many of my friends, it is fair to say things are overall pretty hectic in all of our lives at the moment. Naturally, many of our conversations are focused around our lives as young adults as they are preparing to begin (as if our lives did not already begin over twenty years ago). All of these future-focused conversations have really got me doing some introspective thinking as of late.

Now, this acquaintance and I, we do not always see eye-to-eye. A lot of the time, we do. But one major difference between us that I have noticed increasingly as graduation has approached, is our outlook on life moving forward. Of course, there's nothing wrong with either of the two ways we envision our lives to be from this point on, but I just can't help but be fascinated by the very fact that such a difference exists. Like many other things, I suspect this is the result of our culture and the messages we have constantly heard for our entire lives. I'll explain.

While I was chatting with this acquaintance, we got around to such topics of apartment shopping, career paths, and starting families. She was worried sick about her future. She has a pretty good internship now, and she was worried about whether it was going to lead to a permanent full-time position, post-graduation. She has to find a new place to live, and she is hoping to move in with her current boyfriend, in hopes that this situation *obviously* leads to marriage, children, and a quiet, safe life in the Kansas countryside.

Like I said before, there is certainly nothing wrong with this path, if that is the way your life goes. In fact, I know someone else who has already graduated, started her career, gotten married, and settled down in the Kansas countryside. Happily ever after.

But to me, in my own honest opinion, that seems downright crazy. Why? We are in our early twenties, not our late thirties, and we have so much life left to live to figure everything out. There's no rush to know all the answers and settle ourselves down forever.

Back to my acquaintance. When she asked me what plans I have for after May 14th when we become full-time adults, I simply shrugged and told her, "I dunno." Her eyes widened and she almost spat out her drink. "What do you mean, you don't know?" Well, I don't know. I can't tell the future, and I have learned to accept this fact because there's no way worrying will ever make me a psychic, and even if it could, there's no way seeing the future can actually help a person change it, anyway.

(Side note: I'd like to really emphasize just how foolish it is to be so shocked when someone says they don't know what the future holds. Because even though this acquaintance of mine has an internship, a relationship, and soon maybe even an apartment, she still knows just as little about the weather tomorrow as I do. She's just fooled herself into a false sense of security thinking she *knows* the future thanks to a few material things which give her a semblance of safety.)

My acquaintance was shocked by my seemingly blasé reaction to her surprise. But I'm used to this by now. Because, as I mentioned earlier, this is a concept which our culture has manufactured and spoon-fed to us from the beginning of time. It freaks us out when we don't have a clear idea of what the future looks like. And understandably so, especially for Millennials, who are used to having the world at our fingertips and thus being able to find an answer for just about anything in a few seconds' time, provided that the Wi-Fi connection is strong enough. But we can't Google what our futures hold.

No, there's a necessity for patience and flexibility that one must have about seeing where their life will take them. It's extremely uncomfortable for someone my age (myself included) to sit tight and wait and see how things go. We are ill at ease with the idea of being comfortable in the uncomfortable unknown that must accompany change if it is to be accepted, because we are so used to knowing everything right now.

Add to this the fact that we, as young people, have been enculturated to believe we need to have all the answers the very moment we enter the "real world," (nevermind the fact that we have no experience to actually draw from in this mythical world). We are told we need to land an internship, graduate, get a good foothold on a longterm career right out of the gates, find someone to love, get married, and settle down to raise a few kids in order to start the cycle over again.

And that's fine. We can do that, if we choose. But do we have to be in such a damned big hurry to do it all right this instant? Are we not allowed every single second in our lives to get to know ourselves and grow and learn more about the world around us, before we are pressured into quickly making so many decisions which will affect us in the longterm? I think we are.

I've only really been taking care of myself on my own as a semi-adult for about four years now. I'm in no hurry to grow up and try to take care of others, too. I really don't feel the pressure to start my career right now. I want to have some fun first. I don't know what I'll be doing after graduation. I don't have it all figured out right now. And that's okay. I can't tell the future, and that's the point. It's not supposed to be determined yet. It is open-ended and left up to me to decide. I want to take for granted that privilege and all the choices I am able to make as a result of it. I can't afford to waste any freedom on worrying about the fear and anticipation that the world has tried to instill in me.

My generation is the one who birthed the phrase "YOLO," and perhaps that's because, as a whole, we are so used to instant gratification that we don't have much of a longterm orientation. Living only once is often accredited for young people doing a number of stupid things, in the name of maybe being dead tomorrow (although statistically unlikely). While it is true that I will live only once, that doesn't mean I have any inclination of how long my life will be. Maybe I will die tomorrow. Or maybe I'll die at the ripe old age of 78. I'm not worried about it. Either way, I have plenty of time to figure stuff out before I rush into any decisions about marriage, career, apartments, or even getting a house plant. After all, I'm only in my twenties.

What Are You Going To Do After Graduation?

This is the question I have been asked countless times over the course of the last year of my life, but particularly this semester, and particularly more frequently as the days have passed.

It's April now. I graduate next month. And I have no plans as of yet for the future. It's a daunting fact and a realization that carries power with it to haunt me for days. I don't have a job lined up -- least of the beginning of a career and I don't have the first idea where I am going to live. It's terrifying.

And yet, I have remained pretty calm throughout all of it. At the beginning of this year, my goal was to find a job by second semester. At the beginning of second semester, my goal was to find a job by spring break. After spring break, my goal was simply to find a job. And it hasn't been for lack of trying. But I just don't seem to be having any luck.

I've applied lots of places. Locally, and in Boston. All last week and the week before, I have sat in class, multi-tasking as I attempt to feign interest in whatever the teacher has been talking about, while simultaneously sifting through internship opportunities and online application portals. I have revised my cover letter so many times, I think I could recite the introduction paragraph by heart. I have pleaded in desperation to companies to please hire me, veiled thinly with phrases like "I await your response" and "let me know if you have any questions". And all to no avail.

I just spent some time surfing through Boston's Housing Wanted link on Craigslist where I ultimately posted an ad asking for a room to stay in during the summer, even though I have no job lined up and no money for a down payment. What can it hurt?

I so don't have my shit together. I don't have a place to live -- here or there -- and I don't know where I'm going to work after May 14th. Sure, I've booked myself a roundtrip ticket to France for a two-week post-graduation vacation in the country I love, but upon my return, I will be landing not only in Wichita, but in reality. A reality which is likely to see me unemployed and homeless.

Over the last several months, my friends have been discussing apartments in Wichita and things like rent and roommates. They've started new jobs at big companies and things are looking great for them and their continued lives in the Midwest metropolis which is Wichita. But not for me. I want something more.

Of course I do. I always do. And isn't that exactly what always gets me in trouble? I demand euphoria, excitement, drama, perfection. I need things to be big and bold and absolutely not boring. I have to go and do things on my own and far away from everyone else. I can never simply be satisfied to stay where I am, and live my life among those who seemingly do not long for faraway places in the same way I do. No, I have to make things difficult on myself.

I know that, but I also know that making things difficult is just another way of saying that I am making things worthwhile. All the struggles and moments of sheer fear when I have no earthly idea of what is coming next, that's going to be the stuff that makes it meaningful later on, right? Right?

Nobody has the answer for me. Least of all, myself. Nobody has any idea what is going to happen to Alyssa in the future, or even right now, for that matter. And that thought alone is enough to make me want to enroll in more classes until I die.

After graduation -- out there, in the real world -- that is the place where scary things happen. The unknown lurks around every corner and there are bills to be paid and responsibilities to be had. It's the total opposite of the warm security blanket of college education which has coddled me for the past eight semesters. It's a harsh wake-up call from an angry mother with a shrill voice the morning after a night out with friends, as she rips the covers off of your face and turns your hungover, disoriented world upside down. It's sudden, it's scary, and it's very, very real.

And yet, I find it most comforting to recognize the fact that there are others who are in the very same boat as me. Even though I haven't had enough time to catch my breath in two weeks, even though I have an exam tomorrow which I should be studying for now, and even though I won't see the end of my to-do list until a few days before graduation finally arrives... I think it is somehow calming to accept the fact that I am not in this alone.

Sure, I may be freaking out about my future. But everyone does, at some point. And yeah, hindsight is always 20/20. But foresight? You're going into that blind. There's no way to tell the future. There's no way to know if the next best decision of your life lies just around the corner. There's no way to know. Until you get there. You just have to go.

You just have to have faith in yourself and your life and know that whatever happens, will do so for a reason and it will all inevitably lead you down the right path at the right time and you will arrive exactly where you are meant to be, to stumble upon the opportunities which are meant for you. And that's horrifying. But what other choice do you really have?

So no, I don't know what I'm going to do after graduation. I don't know where I'm going to live, either. Maybe Wichita. Maybe Boston. Maybe France. Maybe somewhere else entirely. I may work two jobs earning minimum wage as a barista and a waitress, putting in 50 hours a week. I may land my dream job tomorrow when one of the internships in Boston finally replies. I just don't know.

I haven't the foggiest. Because, for the first time in my life, the protective, familiar structure of academia has not dictated what I am supposed to do or where I am supposed to go. I am free to choose what I want to do, where I want to go, and who I want to be. I am vulnerable and, finally, I get to make all my own decisions. That's terrifying, and I haven't really figured it all out yet. And that's okay. I'm twenty-two and new at this. I don't have to have everything figured out. Thanks for asking.