I’m about to turn 31. It doesn’t bother me, it’s just a number and doesn’t reflect anything other than how long my heart’s been beating, but being 10 years past the last ‘milestone of my youth’ age is cause for reflection.
When I was 21 I:
- Was three years into my working life
- Was two years into my mortgage
- Suffered my first relationship collapse
- Gave up on the idea that I’d ever like alcohol
- Was utterly convinced that my employer at the time would promote me for my uber-intelligence
- Notwithstanding the above... thought I knew everything
I’m turning into the very cliché which made me cringe so much when I was 21. You know the one, your mother keeps saying to you “as you get older you realise how little you know at 21”. When you’re 21 you think your parents are stupid; it takes them longer to figure stuff out than it takes you, anything involving technology is just a little bit baffling for them and they take the sensible route for EVERYthing. So annoying.
In the 10 years since I was 21 I haven’t changed. Not in the sense of how I look or act or what I believe in, but certain aspects of me are different, they haven’t changed, they’re just different. When I was 21 I was well known for being faddy, I’d develop an interest in everything at some point which would usually fritter away after a matter of weeks. I think it’s a family trait because my brother was known for it too, he’d buy a magazine about his chosen fad, learn everything there was to know about it then lose interest. I, on the other hand, just talked about it for weeks then lost interest. I’m still quite faddy but I seem to have developed a way of turning some of those fads into something constructive (it’s called studying).
My attitude towards the rest of my life is also different, not changed, just different. I now understand that your working life is REALLY long and if you want to reach the end of it with a smile on your face and a spring in your step you’ve got to do everything you can to make it enjoyable. I know people say they’d rather work to live than live to work, but when a third of my day is taken up at work, I’d rather it was doing something I enjoy; doing a job you dislike for 50+ years just isn’t worth the stress and constant bad moods, in my opinion. It’d turn me into a bitter twisted old hag of a cat-lady.
When I was 21 I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. I sort of assumed it would fill in the blanks itself as the years went by. It didn’t. I didn’t learn to drive until I was 25. I had always wanted to be ABLE to drive; it just never really occurred to me that I’d have to go through the process of learning, I just sort of expected to be able to do it. Same with work life; I expected that my perfect job would miraculously reveal itself to me with a healthy pay cheque. It didn’t. I didn’t actually realise that until I was about 27 at which point I began formulating a loose plan for what to do with the rest of my working life. That plan is now firmly in place and I have my Plans B & C ready just in case; I’ve learned my lesson with that one before! So impatient as I am, I now know and understand that I’ll have a couple more years in my less-than-ideal job in order to complete the requisite study and qualifications which will hopefully launch me into a more-like-ideal job.
When I was 21 I truly believed I knew everything. A mere 10 years later at 31 I realise I actually know very little. Ask me again in another 10 years time and I’ll probably know even less. Although if all goes to plan (A) I’ll be Caz Walton PhD by then so I’ll be wise enough to admit I know nothing.
