As the scales of youth tip ever so slightly, 26 welcomes me to the ‘other half’ of my twenties. 26 feels like a round number, and more than any age that came before, it has awoken me to the reality of getting older. Up until this year, I rather enjoyed the novelty of the ‘we’re getting old’ narrative that seems to grips us from the minute we leave school; counting up the years and playing with the maths to make us feel more mature than we really are. But in spite of this numbers game, I never really felt old; I always felt young and I relished in the joy of being so. And I know what you’re thinking- I’m still in my twenties, I am still young. But for first time in my life, the harsh embrace of my 26th birthday has made me realise that I’m young, but I’m not getting any younger. 

For those of us born in the late nineties and early two-thousands, a significant proportion of our precious early twenties was snatched by the COVID-19 pandemic. 21st birthdays were celebrated in pyjamas, adventures with friends were replaced with facetime calls, university degrees were completed online. Many momentous occasions were signified by the closing of a laptop rather than the popping of a cork. Although the pandemic affected every generation differently, I can’t help but grieve the youth we missed.  

Four years later, and many of us find ourselves playing catch-up with our timelines. My theory is that on the inside everyone feels two years younger that we actually are. I’m technically only 24, I bargain with myself, we lost two years due to COVID. But no matter how many ways I dress it up and stick a bow on it, I’m not in my early twenties anymore. Life has rebalanced the scales for us, as it always does.  

Although they say that ‘age is only a number’, attached to it are a host of expectations that become all the more difficult to ignore as you get deeper into your twenties; they’re like a stubborn sticky label that you can never quite get off. 

 As I look at the friends who surround me, I see all of us following distinct paths. Some are living at home, some have their own house, some are travelling, some are married or engaged, some are dating, some are parents, some have 9-5s, some are studying, some are self-employed. The pre-destined paths that many of us walked together- in school and university, in our hometowns and in our cosy close knit friendship groups- have ran their course over the last few years, and it’s been down to us to carve out the next steps for ourselves. No matter what stage we find ourselves in, the comparison trap has us in its grip, and most of us feel like we’re behind our peers (or our parents when they were our age) in one way or another.  

A huge part of the reason we feel so ‘behind’ is because we are comparing our paths with those of the generations who came before us. In 2024, times are both easier and tougher for young people. We live our lives through screens- which simultaneously gives us more possibility and more limitations. On top of that, the current energy of the world, the environment and the economy means that on one hand we have more freedom to be ourselves than ever before, and on the other, less scope for security than ever before. Our coming-of-age experience has been echoed by reports of ‘not enoughness’: not enough houses, not enough jobs, not enough money, not enough opportunities… of course we as a generation feel inadequate and scarce. Life is different, the world is different; and we are  creating a new blueprint while still trying to operate from an outdated one. Like all things, the changes we are living through will only be understood with time. And once it is eventually understood, everything will inevitably change again for the children yet to be born. 

That statement alone opens a whole other can of worms. While some people in their twenties have already made the decision to be parents, for us on the fence, 26 has the potential to welcome us into the ‘panic years’, in which many of us begin to consider the questions: Will I have children? Will I get married? Will I ever afford my own house? Where will I settle? Will I travel to all the places I want to see? Will my career work out? What even will my career be?   

Breathe, I remind myself as I pull myself out of the same rabbit hole I have fallen into five times this week. Breathe.    

If you are reading this and you also feel lost as you navigate your twenties, or thirties, or any age, firstly, please know that you’re not alone. I see you, I am you, and I know how hard these years can be. I wish there was a way I could wrap this up this for you and I both with a satisfying conclusion, one which answers all questions that we’re asking ourselves. But I can’t, because as we’re learning with age, there are very few things which fit themselves neatly into boxes. Only time can provide the answers we are searching for, and we must be cautious of looking too much towards an imagined conclusion, that we miss out on the time that is taking us there.  

While we have been modelled that there is a “right way” to do things, we must accept that there is no one linear, correct, easy path to get anywhere. There are no correct choices or decisions that can make you any more worthy than another; and it is a shame we are not told this in school when we’re planning out a career path to within an inch of its teeth before we’re even old enough to drive a car. There is no guidebook, no checklist, no tangible thing we can attach to in this whirlwind we are living. So perhaps it’s time we stopped torturing ourselves by pretending that there is.  

The very nature of life is unpredictable, and uncertainty will always prevail in life, no matter what age we are. At 30, 40, 50 and beyond we will still be asking questions which do not have straight answers. And even when we one day have the hindsight to see how our twenties turned out, we still won’t know for sure how the rest of it will. My guess is that uncertainty just feels even more daunting now because it is the first time we are truly understanding and experiencing it. My guess is also that we will look back and wish that we had appreciated our youth more, instead of worrying about where we would be when it inevitably started to fade. 

When I get quiet enough to block out the noise, my inner voice tells me that if we are getting up each day and trying our best, we are doing alright. If we are experimenting and experiencing, we are doing alright. If we are trying and failing but learning, we are doing alright. It’s okay to work jobs that feel like stepping stones, it’s okay to move home, it’s okay to move away. It’s okay to change your expectations, it’s okay to change your mind, it’s okay to change your plans. It’s okay to not be where you ‘thought’ you’d be, it’s okay to make mistakes, it’s okay to not know. As long as you are trying you are doing alright. 

So as I welcome in 26, and you welcome in whatever age comes next for you, let’s vow let go of the narrative that everything needs to be ‘worked out’ by now, or by 30, or by any age at all. At the end of it all, this ‘race’ will only be with our selves, and we will see that it was never a ‘race’ at all, but rather a journey. While we don’t yet have the full picture of how where the path took us, one day, when we have more years behind us than we do ahead, my hope is that we will look back and realise that we were exactly where we were meant to be. And that we, indeed, were doing alright.