Lost in My 20s: Welcome to the Second Puberty

I’m moving into my mid-20s, and it’s terrifying. I’m 23 right now—technically still in my early 20s. But in a few months, I’ll be 24. Officially mid-20s. And that feels surreal, because what do you mean I’m not 20 anymore? I was still in uni a few days ago, not dealing with an existential identity crisis or staring at a quarter-life one.

I graduated in 2023, finished my post-graduation, and now I’m preparing for the Civil Services. I’m basically unemployed, living with my parents, and slowly learning how the real world works.

I feel—and I know—that a lot of us in our twenties are lost, confused, and anxious at the same time. There’s a specific kind of loneliness in your twenties because everyone is at a different place, pace, and path, even when you live in the same city or grew up side by side. Your lives look nothing alike anymore.

Some of my friends are still in college or university. Some have graduated and are looking for jobs. Some have jobs and live independently, doing their own thing. Some quit their jobs and are trying to figure out their careers. Some, like me, moved back home and live with their parents. And some—some are already thinking about getting married at 25. And here I am, feeling behind. How are we all the same age but living such completely different lives?

One of the most pressing and frightening things we’re all dealing with right now is our careers. Some people have already started theirs. Some are still figuring things out. Some are quitting and starting over. And some have actually succeeded—they got what they wanted and achieved their dreams, at least career-wise.

And then there’s this panic that creeps in. Why am I still here, in my parents’ home, while everyone else seems to be moving ahead—exploring life, making new friends, getting into serious relationships? Here I am, more or less the same, and a little lonely. Even though I do have friends and family. Still.

It feels like so much and so little is happening at the same time.

Thinking about it, puberty was hard too—not taking anything away from teenage struggles. But when you’re a teenager, you experience everything for the first time: new emotions, new experiences, a new way of looking at the world. Yet you still have structure. You have school to go to. You have a place to make friends. You have a plan, even if you don’t like it. People tell you what to do, and even when you resist, there’s a path laid out in front of you.

As a teenager, you also feel like you finally know everything. You believe you understand the world, that you know who you are, and that you can do anything if you set your mind to it.

And then your 20s happen.

Suddenly, you’ve never felt more lost, more underconfident, or more helpless. You’re done with uni and asking for direction—like someone, please tell me what the right way is, what the right decisions are, and that everything will turn out okay. How did I feel so sure of myself at 19, and now at 23, feel like I’m rediscovering who even am I?

The doubt gets louder because comparison is unavoidable. I constantly remind myself that I have good things in my life: I graduated from my dream college, completed my post-graduation, I’m preparing for something I truly want, I have a roof over my head, supportive parents, and an amazing best friend who is my biggest cheerleader. And yet, it’s still hard to feel grateful sometimes when you’re constantly measuring your life against others and convincing yourself that they know exactly what they’re doing.

I know what I want too. I want to join the Civil Services. But preparing for the Civil Services is incredibly lonely. For those who don’t know, Indian Civil Services require clearing an exam called UPSC. And it’s not just a little difficult—it’s brutally tough. It can take years, and sometimes, even after everything, you don’t get through at all.

So yes, it’s unpredictable and insecure, and sometimes you can’t help but ask yourself: Is everything going to be okay?

But I chose this path, and I want it. That means I have to put in the effort. I don’t want to complain—and at the same time, I absolutely do. Because this is my blog, and I get to rant here.

It’s just hard when your peers and acquaintances seem to be moving forward while you feel stagnant. It sucks. A little more than a little.

It’s especially hard because there’s this constant voice—around you and inside your head—shaped by every movie you’ve watched, every book you’ve read, and every song you’ve listened to. Your twenties are supposed to be about exploring, meeting new people, falling in love, and making memories. And it’s daunting when most of your days are spent sitting in your room, trying to stay motivated.

But slowly, I’m starting to realise that not everyone is living that picture-perfect dream life we’ve been shown. Even people who seem far ahead have their own struggles. You just have different ones because you’re on a different path. Not everyone’s life is meant to look the same.

I’m also learning that you don’t need a big group of friends all the time. Sometimes, one true friend is enough to get you through life. So maybe constant comparison is just setting us up for hurt, envy, and disappointment.

I’m not saying I’ve had some divine intervention. I haven’t fully accepted the loneliness, the instability, or the insecurity yet. But I’m getting there—slowly. I’m learning to appreciate the few people I do have.

I’m realising that this phase gives me time for self-introspection and for interests I once pushed aside. I’m learning to work on myself—not just for a career or a relationship, but for the person I want to be when I’m alone.

I’m still anxious about my career—about what I’ll achieve, what I won’t, and whether I’ll live up to my potential. It feels like an ongoing struggle, one that might ease a little once there’s financial security and a job to hold on to. But I think I’m slowly getting better at navigating my twenties and discovering myself along the way.

And before I end, one last rant: what the hell is up with adult acne? I went through all of puberty without breaking out, only to start breaking out at 22. As if everything else wasn’t enough, my skin decided to rebel too. Thankfully, it’s finally clearing up, and I’m learning to get in sync with my skin again. It freaked me out for a while, and yes, it was incredibly annoying.

So if you’re in your twenties and reading this—feeling lonely, lost, or behind—I’m right there with you. A lot of us are. You’re not alone, even if it feels that way.

And if someone older—maybe in their 30s, 40s, or beyond—is reading this, I hope you can tell me that everything turns out okay, and that it doesn’t feel like this forever.

Okay then, talk to you in the next blog :)