Turning 20 is a life milestone. It closes the teenage adolescence chapter, filled with learning and mistakes, and opens the chapter of existential dread and an intense awareness of aging.
Society idolises early success; the 30 highest achieving under 30, youth awards and being the youngest or most successful.
It’s clear we have an obsession with being young, and I feel like I am running out of time.
I describe myself as having an insatiable hunger for becoming someone I am not yet. This is perpetuated by constantly comparing my reality to those years ahead of me, but how did I get here?
Being young brings with it some security in that no one really knows what they’re doing.
The last five years have felt like a blur. I went to high school and graduated with a fine ATAR while also collecting a slew of mental health issues and an unbridled desire to stay busy as a coping mechanism.
At my busiest, I was working two jobs, freelancing and volunteering on top of full-time study.
I remember first realising that I could apply for a job and had my sights narrowly set on getting the first one I put my CV in for; a summer casual position at a well-known fast food restaurant I didn’t care for. When COVID-19 hit in 2020, I pivoted and set my sights on other opportunities like volunteering and engaging with local council youth programs.
During the tail end of high school and the beginning of university, I found myself second-guessing every decision I made for my future studies in a frantic panic. I had no idea what I wanted to do, but I had to. All my peers did. I thought I was falling behind.
It’s not until you’re on the cusp of something unknown that you truly start to wonder whether you’re cut from the right cloth to make something of yourself.
I turned to the internet (of all places) to see whether anyone else felt similarly to me.
A quick search to the effect of “I’m turning 20, help” reveals a lineup of mediocre advice columns from blogs recounting milestones one might expect to hit when entering this next chapter of their life. These bite-sized morsels of information range from “going on a solo adventure overseas” to “the nine-step skincare routine to keep your skin young”.
These posts reminded me of my empty passport, my empty bathroom vanity and my very empty feelings. A charming uncovering of a wound that I’d not undressed in a long time was still weeping with hints of envy towards those writers.
But why do we place so much social currency on being young and achieving great things early on in one’s life or career?
We love a story about an underdog. What greater underdog than the inexperienced doing things we wish we could have done
My fears, and feeling lost, come from my perfectionism, a by-product of anxiety and neurodiversity. I’m torn between the thought of being stuck doing something I hate for the rest of my life and my fear of not being enough at whatever it is I choose to do.
It is suffocating.
The world rewards productivity and the fast-moving current of information via social media. There is always someone doing more. Someone more productive. Someone who doesn’t need as much rest. Someone whose brain thinks more typically than mine. Someone who isn’t me.
I can’t help but compare myself with them
At my very core, I wonder if I will always want to be enough. Enough for my future employer and peers. Enough for my friends and family.. Or enough for myself.
Despite pushing myself to the brink of burnout and frequently tipping myself over that edge, I am still not where I think I need to be. I’m not working my dream job (yet). I am not and never have excelled in a particular thing. I am more of a ‘jack of all trades, master of none’ case.
I’m not alone in this struggle with perfectionism. I also see my friends obsessively comparing themselves with their peers.
They feel this crushing sensation too.
I’ve distilled the problem into a simple fact that brings me some peace: there is no way I can compare myself now to someone with years more experience than I have, in a fair and justified way for both parties.
I am getting more and more aware that my gripe is not with the number or even getting older; it is a worry that I am losing capital as a young person in society.
A fear of inadequacy.
If you or anyone you know is struggling and need support please reach out.
Lifeline: 13 11 14
Kids Helpline: 1800 55 1800
Headspace: 1800 650 890
In an emergency, always call 000
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