How to do your 20's (whatever that means)

The beginning is such a simple place to start, yet, seemingly, the hardest. It’s taken me 7 years to actually publish a blogpost, after starting a blog back in highschool and never penning a single thing. In fact, the platform I created that account with sent me an email last week, announcing the end of their company and therefore, my incredibly riveting and immensely popular blog. Oh well. Better late than never, right?

So here we are, well, I am anyway, sitting atop the heli deck on a multimillion dollar motor yacht tapping away at my keyboard in the French riviera, a place I now fondly call home. It sounds glamorous. It is. It isn’t. It is. It really isn’t. It really is.

I feel like that’s also an adequate way to sum up how my 23rd year around the sun is looking. It has been a glamorous mix of paradoxes coupled with a certain je ne sais quoi. It feels different, it feels equal parts overwhelming and underwhelming all at once, but most importantly it feels satisfyingly incomplete. I can’t help but feel like I am finally living the 20s that I’ve been craving. Not because I hit the societal milestone of finally “flying the coop”; not because I walked away from a pretty sound life including, but not limited to, “the” relationship, job and house, only to start at the bottom again; and most definitely not because I am making more mistakes than I ever thought possible. But because there is a delicious satisfaction in making decisions for you, and only you. And sticking by them. For being unapologetic and laughing mercilessly at yourself for ever thinking anything could ever be final.

This is just a chapter. None of it matters. All of it matters.

I am sans-abri, technically speaking, yet I have never felt so at home. There is a comfort here – where there is seemingly everything and nothing, all at once. And if I gave anything more than one thought, then perhaps I would lend my time to wonder how this is possible.  But I don’t. If we lended our time to think too much we’d wonder how it is that single people want relationships while settled people wonder if they’re missing out on something, travellers miss stability while the stable ones are restless, old friends want new friends & new friends miss old friends, and basically everyone has a trailing worry that they’re somehow not doing everything, or everything they’re doing is not the right thing.
And while I am so guilty of all of this,these are my 20s (as if that’s even a justification) and right now, all that means is that it is a time to be single & settled & missed & new & to really just not have a fucking clue.

So here’s to figuring it out. Or not. But definitely taking some pictures and attempting to find words to match them as we go along


– Sav, (23), lost & happy

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