Starting Over: A glimpse into living alone in your 20s
Prelude
Before I jump into the weight of this first blog post (sorry), I just wanted to say: welcome! I have desired to make this website for years now, due to the photo catalog I have accrued since 2018, and to have a home for my photos, that felt a bit more personal. As the website was conceived and galleries were assembled, I was starting to feel as if this was just another Instagram page; which felt redundant. I wanted this to feel “different", a bit more personable, real, and (unsurprisingly) vulnerable. Sure, I could write all of this down in a journal and let no one know about what I think about in the day to day, but where’s the fun in that? The point of the blog (for now) is to discuss my thought process during certain projects, while also sprinkling in fun existential stuff that you think about in your mid 20s. To essentially, present the idea of how confusing and hard your 20s are, and to also showcase the beauty of this stage of life. But for now, thank you so much for scrolling through here, and I hope you enjoy.
Starting over and endings are two things that never get any easier. Between the packing, the goodbyes, and the anxieties of what’s to come, it’s difficult to discern which one I dislike the most. Like most people, starting over was a double edged sword for me. It meant saying goodbye to all of my friends and family in my hometown and the end of my academic career. All things that I had known for the last 25 years, things and people that I thought defined who I was. The end of my existence as I knew it. Because who am I if not my academic achievements? Or the people I have surrounded myself with over the years? The beginning of my moving process was anxiety ridden, to say the least, with much of it centralized on my identity and insecurities. Which, in your mid 20s, isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Having this identity crisis during the midst of moving into my own apartment was inherently heavy, but I am so glad it happened when it did.
I moved to Grand Rapids in October 2024 with a completely blank canvas. I would, essentially, be starting over on my own here with the new job and had very few people that I talked to, on a consistent basis, already living here. I would also be walking away from the one thing that made me feel like I had value or purpose: academia. As much as this scared me, I couldn’t help but feel elated. I would be moving to a new place with more opportunity available and I would, generally, be surrounded by like minded people for the first time in a long time. I would also be trying something vastly different for my career than the last two years of my life. More importantly, I felt like I would finally be rid of the feeling of loneliness and falling behind since the beginning of graduate school.
But to say it has been all that I thought it would be, is the furthest thing from the truth. I had two weeks to move upon the acceptance of my job offer in September, and it has been a constant whirlwind ever since. Between settling down here, getting acclimated to the new job, travelling for said job, attempting to make friends, and finding my routine in this new city, all while trying to understand one overarching idea: who am I?
I have constantly been surrounded by family and friends or was mentally occupied with completing my research for my master’s thesis. Furthermore, going to therapy, working out, and having photography to express myself creatively have all been ways I have improved my mental health and, essentially, occupy more of my headspace and time. But, the days where it has been just a little bit harder to roll out of bed. The days when I’m exhausted. The days when I just don’t want to do anything. Those are the days when I kind of just have to sit with myself. Which is not something I was expecting would be as prevalent as it has been.
Early on, I was just constantly out of my apartment. Whether it be in the gym, walking around downtown, or finding things to do; my mind was constantly busy. Busy to the point where I could not think of anything other than making sure I was doing an activity at all times. I was very unwilling to sit still or be with my own thoughts. Time went on, and I travelled more for work, for the holidays, for family, and I just became increasingly exhausted. I just did not want to do anything, ever because I was mentally and physically running on fumes. But I was so uncomfortable with the idea of just sitting with myself and dealing with my thoughts that I could not fathom being alone in a room with just me, it was haunting. What do you mean I have to sit alone with myself to deal with the problems I have created for myself? So you mean, in order to help solve my identity crisis I need to actually think? Yeah, sure okay.
As my third month of living alone comes to a close, I am happy to report that: I still do not have a single clue of who I am nor have I solved any major problems; but that’s okay! I think that’s the point of your 20s though. To just exist, connect, create, see what works for you. We don’t need to have anything solved by any metric. But, what we do have to do is just, as corny and cheesy and goofy as it is, be okay with ourselves. There are, quite frankly, too many things happening in this phase of our lives, with many of us completing college degrees, the ending of major relationships, outgrowing friendships, and some people might be having kids or getting married now. It is a very fast paced, dynamic time of life. So to think that I, or rather we, have the time to conjure up our own, complete identity once we enter the void, is asinine.
Over the course of the new year thus far, I have taken the time to just kind of sit with myself. To rot on my couch, so to speak. Read my book, watch TV, journal, start this website (whoop!), find new hobbies, and invest in preexisting ones, but most importantly: think. Some of my closest friends say that I inherently feel a lot of things all the time, which is so on the nose it hurts. But I don’t take the time to think about what is that I’m feeling, specifically about myself. I haven’t exactly put in any effort to slow down and think about what is that I enjoy about myself, the life I have created, or the things that set my soul on fire. On the other hand, I could go on all day about how great my friends and family are, but me? Absolutely, not. I continuously raise the bar, thus creating this fallacy of not doing enough for myself.
Living alone has probably been one of the hardest things I have had to do mentally. It meant I had to be there for me, when the lights turned off. When I had nothing to do. When I could no longer keep running from myself. Who would have thought just dealing with your consequences and emotions head on would help! But it also has meant giving myself more grace and compassion. Providing myself the understanding and empathy I give those around me. It has also forced me to kind of get out there to create new, genuine friendships, which is a lot harder than it should be these days. Not in a “I can’t stand being alone way” this time. Rather, enjoying what it means to be human through connection and joint experiences. To the friends I have made here in Grand Rapids, or those I have reconnected with, I could not be more appreciative of you just existing. I cannot put into words how much easier you all have made it for me to be here. And to the family and friends, both near and far, that have been in my corner from the start, my love for you all is insurmountable and I hope my gratitude is felt each day by each and every one of you.
This new beginning of living alone has brought on a plethora of emotions, with much of it making me question everything I knew at the time. But, without it, I would not feel this sense of relief in knowing that it’s okay to not be okay all the time.
