By 
Looking back at my twenties, I remember sitting after another exhausting shift at the warehouse, feeling like I’d somehow missed the instruction manual for life.
I had a psychology degree from Deakin University, yet I felt completely lost. My mind was constantly racing, bouncing between regret about yesterday and anxiety about tomorrow.
That feeling of being adrift? Turns out it wasn’t unique to me. Now at thirty-seven, I’ve had countless conversations with people who’ve crossed into their thirties, and we all seem to share the same quiet realizations about who we were becoming back then.
These aren’t the typical “invest early” or “network more” regrets you hear about. These are deeper truths about identity, growth, and the person staring back at you in the mirror.
1) Your confusion is completely normal
I spent my mid-twenties convinced something was fundamentally wrong with me. Everyone else seemed to have their path figured out while I was reading about Buddhism and mindfulness on my phone during warehouse breaks.
Here’s what I wish someone had told me: that lost feeling isn’t a bug, it’s a feature. Your twenties are supposed to be messy. You’re literally rewiring your brain, questioning everything you were taught, and trying to separate your authentic self from everyone else’s expectations.
The people who seemed to have it all figured out? Most of them were just better at faking it. Or worse, they were sleepwalking through someone else’s life plan.
That confusion you’re feeling means you’re actually paying attention. You’re asking the right questions, even if you don’t have the answers yet.
2) Perfectionism is a cage, not a crown
For years, I wore my perfectionism like a badge of honor. Every task had to be flawless. Every decision needed to be optimal. Every conversation had to go exactly right.
You know what that got me? Paralysis. Anxiety. And a constant feeling that nothing I did was ever good enough.
In my book “Hidden Secrets of Buddhism: How To Live With Maximum Impact and Minimum Ego”, I explore how Buddhist philosophy teaches us that perfectionism is actually a form of ego disguised as virtue. It’s not about high standards. It’s about fear.
The irony? Once I started allowing myself to be mediocre at things, I actually got better at them. When you’re not terrified of making mistakes, you actually try more things. And when you try more things, you inevitably get better.
3) Your anxiety is lying to you about urgency
Remember that feeling that everyone was racing ahead while you were stuck in neutral? That panic that you needed to have everything figured out RIGHT NOW?
Yeah, that was your anxiety talking, not reality.
I battled an overactive mind throughout my twenties, constantly creating false deadlines for life milestones. By 25, I should have this. By 27, I need to accomplish that. By 30, everything needs to be perfect.
But life doesn’t work on a timer. The person who gets married at 23 isn’t winning. The friend who lands the big job at 26 isn’t ahead. They’re just on a different timeline.
What actually matters is understanding yourself deeply enough to make choices that align with who you’re becoming, not who you think you should be by a certain age.
4) The people who truly matter will stay
In my twenties, I bent myself into a pretzel trying to maintain every friendship, please every family member, and never disappoint anyone. I thought losing people meant I was failing at relationships.
Wrong. So wrong.
As you grow into yourself, some people won’t like the changes. They preferred the version of you that made them comfortable. The one who never challenged them, never outgrew them, never made them question their own choices.
Let them go.
The people who matter will celebrate your growth, even when it takes you in different directions. They’ll support your evolution even when they don’t fully understand it. Those are your people.
5) Your body is keeping score
When you’re twenty-three, you can run on energy drinks, four hours of sleep, and sheer willpower. Your body seems invincible, like a machine that never needs maintenance.
But here’s what’s actually happening: your body is keeping a detailed record of every all-nighter, every skipped meal, every month without exercise, every stress response you ignore.
The bill comes due in your thirties. Those small aches become chronic pain. That occasional anxiety becomes your default state. The energy you took for granted becomes something you have to actively manage.
Start treating your body like the long-term investment it is. Not for vanity or performance, but for the simple ability to feel good in your own skin a decade from now.
6) Vulnerability is strength in disguise
I spent most of my twenties armored up, terrified that showing any crack in the facade would reveal me as the confused, anxious person I really was. Vulnerability felt like weakness, and weakness felt like death.
But here’s what I learned, partly through my exploration of Eastern philosophy in “Hidden Secrets of Buddhism”: the strongest thing you can do is admit you don’t have all the answers.
When you’re vulnerable, you give others permission to be human too. You create real connections instead of surface-level interactions. You stop wasting energy maintaining a false image and can use that energy to actually grow.
The friends I made once I started being honest about my struggles? Those are the ones I still have today.
7) Your parents are just people
This one hits different. In your twenties, you’re either trying to prove something to your parents or rebel against them. Either way, they’re these larger-than-life figures whose approval or disapproval can make or break your sense of self.
Then one day, usually somewhere in your late twenties, you realize they’re just people. Flawed, uncertain, doing their best with limited information and their own baggage.
They don’t have all the answers. They never did. They were probably just as lost in their twenties as you are now, maybe more so.
This isn’t about blame or resentment. It’s about freedom. Once you see your parents as humans rather than authorities, you can finally start making choices for yourself rather than for or against them.
8) The work is never just about the work
During those warehouse shifts, I thought I was just killing time until my “real life” began. But looking back, that job taught me more about myself than any career move since.
Whatever you’re doing in your twenties, even if it feels meaningless, is shaping who you’re becoming. That retail job where you learned patience with difficult people? That’s character development. The failed startup that taught you resilience? That’s growth. The relationship that didn’t work out but showed you what you actually need? That’s wisdom.
Nothing is wasted if you’re paying attention. The challenge isn’t finding the perfect path. It’s recognizing that every path is teaching you something about who you are and who you want to become.
Final words
If you’re in your twenties reading this, know that the confusion, anxiety, and constant questioning aren’t signs you’re broken. They’re signs you’re becoming. And if you’re in your thirties nodding along, remember that these lessons aren’t failures. They’re the price of admission to authentic adulthood.
The truth is, nobody really tells you these things in your twenties because you probably wouldn’t believe them anyway. Some wisdom only comes from living through the mess and emerging on the other side.
But maybe, just maybe, hearing that the mess is normal, expected, and even necessary might make the journey a little less lonely.