So last week, I mentioned I wanted my fellow, favorite bloggers to guest blog about their own quarter life experiences as I try to grasp my own quarter-life crisis less than one month out from my 25th birthday.
One of the first gals to respond to me shared her story which I found fascinating, in part because she hails from Washington, DC. Her guest post comes from an excerpt of a book she’s writing about her quarter-life experience (I’ll add that one to my collection of Self Help books on the Quarter Life crisis, none of which I’ve read yet) and she was willing to share her experiences with me so I felt more than inclined to share them with you all. A perfect segue into my quarter life series which btw will be happening every Wednesday and Friday between now and April 12. Anyhow, like I said, Shannon is a DC Blogger and blogs over at Disaffected Scanner Jockey here’s what she had to say about her own quarter-life experience:
On my 25th birthday, I was living on a fairly sketchy block in Southwest. And when I say sketchy, I mean the ice cream truck had bars on the windows and never came to a complete stop.
I had a job in political consulting, and it was so demanding I kept a blanket and pillow under my desk for the nights I had to sleep over. I had a new boyfriend, cool friends, and a pretty good life. All in all, 25 wasn’t that interesting. The interesting part is everything that happened next.
I got dumped. Then I quit my job. Or, rather, my sister was so sick of me hating my job that she loaned me money so I could quit. I contemplated sending in a resignation letter that just said, “So long, suckers!” in crayon. But I took the high road, gave two weeks’ notice, and moved on.
Then I took every road that I could think of. I found a new job, and got laid off six months later. I found a new boyfriend, a diplomat. But we split up when he moved to Bogota. At the same time as the breakup and the layoff, my sister moved across the country. Somewhere in there I turned 26. I took temp jobs, struggled, and tried to figure out What To Do With My Life. It seemed like every time I picked myself up off the tracks, another train would come on through.
And so began a full-on quarterlife crisis. How do you deal with these things in a healthy manner? Don’t ask me, because I resolved the whole thing by leaping into a starter marriage. I got married in Vegas, by an Elvis impersonator, to the diplomat I’d only dated for six months. Then, to heap goofy on top of foolish, I followed him to Bogota, Colombia. From there we went to Sarajevo, Bosnia-Herzegovina. He stayed there, I came home to DC, and that was that. Divorced at 29, which completes the cycle of late 20s cliche. (The average age of a woman at her first divorce is 29.)
Nowadays, I once more work temp jobs, I live in my old neighborhood (albeit on a better block), and I still have the same friends. At 31, I’m back at the beginning. I couldn’t be happier. Starting over is the best opportunity life will ever give you.
So what’s the big lesson? What’s the advice I can offer? Don’t move to countries with lots of land mines and a history of war. Don’t get married by Elvis. Don’t follow someone else around, find a way to forge your own path.
Good answers all, but here’s the real takeaway: As you age, and life beats you to a bloody pulp, the big issues get broken down into manageable chunks. You stop thinking in terms of What To Do With My Life, and you learn to let life happen. Have dreams and goals, but remember that the world won’t conform to your schedule. Oh, and screw up as much as humanly possible. You’re still at a point where your age is an excuse, so take advantage of that. And, most important of all, don’t let fear guide your decisions. Once you give in to being afraid, your decisions are no longer your own and your life no longer belongs to you.
But whatever you do, don’t live where the ice cream trucks won’t stop.
-Shannon can be found at Disaffected Scanner Jockey. Go check her out!
Considering how I still haven’t gotten out of my head that just because I’m not married, don’t have a graduate degree or a six figure salary doesn’t mean I’m a failure. I’ve learned that things don’t always happen as you plan, hell if they had, I would have moved to DC with my ex and likely been married a year later in a relationship I could never let myself be 200% happy with. I’d also be working on the Hill for next to nothing instead of a non-profit on a similar salary. But things now, since I’ve just let life happen, are better and well, I’m happier. I just need to get it out of my head that just cause my degree didn’t equal six figure salary right away, doesn’t mean it won’t ever happen…after all I’m a liberal arts major.
Anyhow, after a few emails with her my mind was, instead of contemplating my failures and planning my life map, now contemplating how I can accept what I’ve done as success and asking the “so what” question. So what if I’ve been fired from two jobs post graduation and had 3 temp jobs and only as of last July was in a job that I could see myself growing into? So what if I wasn’t married at 25, so what if I’m not engaged yet, the main point is that I have a man in my life that I have a future with…and a future I’m excited about at that! So what if I can’t pay half my student loans, work two jobs and can still barely afford to live? But I’m not living home, I’m not stuck in some po-dunk town in Southwestern Vermont and I’m not in a relationship I’m unhappy in. I’m living my dream, one day at a time.
Thanks for the inspiration Shannon, I for one, can’t wait for the book! Stay tuned for more guest bloggers in the coming weeks!!! If you’re interested don’t forget to email me!
