Navigating Your 20s: Seasons of Life, Faith After College, and More
If you’re reading this as a twenty-something, let me guess: one of your best friends has been married for over a year, another is currently traveling the world with money nobody can quite explain, and another just called you after the worst Hinge date of their life. Sound about right?
It’s a strange time, this decade of our lives. I recently turned 23, and the milestone prompted some reflection. How is it that one single decade can hold so many versions of adulthood–when not long ago, many of us were walking through the same season together?
I used to find this deeply unsettling, and honestly am still learning to not let it make me spiral with questions like, “When did I fall behind?” or wonder what kind of timeline God has in mind for me. I’d feel anxious when someone asked what kind of nurse I wanted to be because, truthfully, I didn’t know. My palms would sweat when asked when I saw myself getting engaged (LOL) because, in many ways, I still feel eighteen.
Even now, I am learning to live with and embrace imposter syndrome at my “big girl" job in my “big girl” city.
Same Decade, Different Season
In our twenties, we watch our friends settle into wildly different rhythms of life. Some are living at home, enjoying home-cooked meals and the comfort of familiarity (hi I am actually so jealous of you). Others are investing in mortgages, beginning families, and entering long-term financial commitments. And then, there are some of us—watching our paychecks vanish into rent, groceries, and the occasional girls’ night we probably couldn’t afford in the first place (that would be me).
At some point, though, I’ve learned to see this diversity of paths as kinda wonderful. What a gift it is to witness your people pursue different callings and to be given the freedom to embrace your own season, even if it looks unlike anyone else’s.
One of the best parts of your twenties is the ability to explore. New jobs, new hobbies, new cities—you can try them all and still proudly say, “I’m figuring it out.” Because that’s the point. No one expects you to have a ten-year plan, and truthfully, it was never ours to plan in the first place. There’s a lot of comfort in hearing people say, “And that’s okay, you’re still young.”
I will never stop encouraging people to do something outside of work that not only allows you to feel fully yourself, but that brings out your inner child and reminds you that life is so much more than the walls of your office and your to-do list on your bedside table.
Faith in Adulthood
Something that has surprised me since graduating is how much intentionality faith now requires. In college, it was somewhat built into the culture—quiet time was encouraged, college ministries were everywhere you looked, and community came more naturally inside the church. Now…not so much.
For one thing, as a nurse, I am either waking up at the crack of dawn and throwing on scrubs to rush out the door, or crashing into my pillow to catch up on rest the morning after a 12-hour night shift. I know busyness should never be an excuse not to start your day with the Word, but it does feel like you must prioritize it more than ever.
And then there’s the shift from attending church events centered around college students to the scary realization that you are now invited to sit in the “young adult” pews at church. You might wonder why the junior pastor only comes up to you when your boyfriend comes to the service with you. Oh and there’s no sorority bible study that is conveniently down the street or down the stairs from your bedroom. Instead, we have to put ourselves out there, just like freshman year of college, to make our church our home.
I will say, when you walk into those intimidating young adult nights, bible studies of women in their 30s (because you’re somehow considered a grown-up adult now??), it’s amazing how much you relate to the people around you, no matter their upbringing, career, or, believe it or not, the fact that they went to UGA! We are all trying to find our footing while keeping a firm foundation rooted in our God.
The Post-Grad Blues
Another realization I’ve had is that you will reflect on your college years often, and they will feel like your fairytale years. You will miss the late-night fast food runs, the piling in the car for coffee, and what felt like an endless stream of plans, celebrations, and trips that made life like a movie. Back then, if one night of fun ended, you knew there would be another by the weekend. Now, that one cozy Saturday night on your couch with your Kindle you’ve been dreaming of all week feels almost as special. And I’m a meal-prepper now???
If your college experience was anything like mine, you’d understand the post-weekend or post-trip depression waves that crash on me from time to time since graduation. It’s hard to soak in how thankful you are for time spent with friends over the weekend when all you can think about is the week of work ahead or the three-in-a-row night shifts coming up that tend to isolate you from the rest of the world.
This weekly cycle of feelings may sound dumb, especially to those of you probably saying to yourself, “Well, Bella, that’s just life…” but “living for your weekends” is a huge shift that nobody warns you about when you were just living in your little fake, perfect college bubble. I think it’s important to remember there were hard days in college, too.
The Comparison Spiral
I often think I miss the blessings that are right in front of me because I am too busy watching the world’s highlight reels. I think that’s one of the most common themes in your 20s.
You scroll through TikTok and find a random girl with the dreamy “soft” nursing job who somehow seems fulfilled yet well-rested…a combo I cannot say I relate to. You see a college acquaintance post her massive engagement ring, friends enjoying their weekends, and you’re suddenly wondering what you’re doing with your life while sitting in the dark at the nurse’s station at 3:00 AM on a Saturday. You find yourself craving an entire lifestyle change just because someone is glowing in their Instagram posts.
You don’t know the whole story. That’s what I remind myself. And comparison is blinding you and me from seeing the good that God is doing right here in our very own races.
If you take nothing else from this post, remember, no matter where you are or what you’re doing:
You’re in the middle of something you used to look forward to–standing in answered prayers–no matter how ordinary life may feel right now.
Write it on your mirror, put it on a sticky note, whisper it to yourself on your dreaded drive to work. Stop waiting on the next blessing, and begin to embrace every part of this one you’re living in.
Sweet Reunions
I’m writing this from the Palm Beach Airport after squeezing my best friends from college “goodbye” after a bachelorette trip that reunited us after far too long.
We relaxed poolside, screen-shared our old college videos, ate great food, and most importantly—had real conversations about how life is really going for us all. The kind of talks where no one pretends to have it all figured out.
Some of us are content but exhausted. Some of us are not happy with our jobs and are feeling isolated in our new cities, having a lot of trouble finding community. Some of us have no clue what the next year will look like, let alone the next six months.
There we were–all back together again, coming from three different time zones, three completely different lives–yet all learning, growing, and adjusting. And despite being apart for almost a year, we picked right back up where we left off. That’s my prayer for your reunions, too.
Nobody really knows how to navigate your twenties, and without a roadmap, it feels messy and weird and kind of freeing. So I guess here’s to learning, stumbling, restarting, and remembering that these years, uncertain as they are, are shaping you into someone more grounded, more resilient, and more yourself. There’s room to honor our own seasons of life that we are riding out while celebrating others in theirs.
Here’s to the twenty-somethings.
