At 29, it's like I'm standing at the edge of a cliff, juggling flaming swords, and everyone around me is just yelling, "Why haven't you figured it out yet?" I work in tech, and sure, that sounds glamorous to everyone outside this grind, but let me tell you, it's exhausting. Every day is a new crisis, a new deadline, a new reason to question why I’m even doing this. I’m drowning in tasks, but somehow, it's never enough. There's always some new technology to master, some new project to take on, some new way to prove that I’m not just treading water. But the truth is, I am. I’m just trying to keep my head above the chaos.
And then there's my love life—or whatever you want to call this trainwreck. I’m either too busy, too tired, or too indifferent to even care anymore. Dating feels like another job interview, except there's no paycheck at the end, just another round of disappointment. Everyone else seems to be settling down, finding their 'person,' and here I am, swiping left on life, wondering if this is all there is.
And if that wasn’t enough, there's this constant, gnawing feeling that I’m running out of time. A mid-life crisis? At 29? Seriously? But that's what it feels like. I look around, and it's like I’m watching everyone else move forward while I’m stuck on repeat. Marriage pressure? Don’t even get me started. Every family gathering is like a reality show, where the only topic is "Who Wants to Marry a 29-Year-Old?" and everyone’s got an opinion on how I should be living my life. It’s like I’m a piece of property on the market, and the clock is ticking. Society’s expectations? They’re like a noose tightening around my neck. Get married, settle down, have kids, buy a house, climb the career ladder. It’s like they’ve mapped out my entire life for me, and I’m just supposed to follow along, no questions asked.
But here’s the thing: I’m tired. Tired of pretending like I have it all together when I’m barely holding on. Tired of the pressure, the expectations, the constant feeling that I’m failing at life because I’m not where I’m 'supposed' to be. Maybe I don’t have all the answers. Maybe I’m just trying to survive. And maybe that’s okay. Or maybe it’s not. I don’t know anymore. All I know is, something’s got to give, because this? This isn’t living. It’s just existing, and I’m tired of just existing.
