Expectation vs. Reality: The Twenty-Something Plot Twist
I couldn’t help but wonder…
Was I failing at life — or just failing to meet the version of life I had imagined at sixteen?
In my head, my twenties were supposed to be a glittering era of rooftop parties, dream careers, and love stories that mirrored my favorite novels. I’d have it all figured out — the wardrobe, the relationship, the career trajectory that felt like a five-year plan printed on pastel cardstock.
In reality? My most committed relationship is with oat milk lattes, my career path zigzags more than my morning eyeliner, and my plans change more frequently than my hair part.
No one tells you that your twenties are more about unlearning than arriving. Unlearning the fantasy timelines we built around what "success" should look like by 25. Unlearning the belief that love has to be intense to be real. Unlearning that being “behind” means you’re not enough.
Managing expectations in your twenties feels a lot like managing your inbox — chaotic, overwhelming, and somehow still full of newsletters you didn’t sign up for. Expectations from family, society, and especially yourself start to feel like a second full-time job. Except this one doesn’t come with benefits — just burnout.
But somewhere between the mental breakdowns and the quiet victories, I started to realise: maybe it’s not about lowering expectations... but rewriting them entirely.
What if success isn’t a promotion or a ring on your finger, but making it through the week with your boundaries intact?
What if romance isn’t a dramatic confession in the rain, but someone who remembers how you take your coffee?
What if progress isn’t a milestone, but learning how to rest without guilt?
Your twenties aren’t a race to become the best version of yourself — they’re the messy, beautiful process of figuring out who that person even is. It’s about giving yourself permission to not know, to try again, to change your mind. And yes, to cry at 2 a.m. over a career path you thought you wanted but no longer love.
So here’s to the soft, quiet rebellion of letting go of who you thought you should be, and falling in love with who you actually are — flaws, failures, and all the plot twists in between.
Because the real glow-up isn’t aesthetic. It’s emotional.