i am not boring

the unexpected perks of entering your late twenties and letting go of the shame of not being a "typical" 20-something

I had always heard that getting older comes with the magic of finally becoming comfortable with who you are and no longer caring so much about what other people think. I say magic because I am someone who has struggled with anxiety for most of her life and the thought of leaving the house without triple-guessing an outfit sounded like some ridiculous joke.

But shockingly, it’s starting to make sense.

I’ve always felt guilty about my lack of interest in clubbing and drinking and going outside in general. Throughout my teens and most of my 20s, I’ve been battling with the idea that I might be quite boring.

I have no problem with spending days maybe even a week straight at home. There’s always something I can be doing whether it’s reading, writing, playing a cosy game, painting, redoing my Notion setup, working on a side project or crocheting—I can easily transport myself into my own world and have hours of fun on my own. But when people ask me what I’ve been up to lately, I suddenly feel this wave of shame. I don’t have any exciting stories to share or anything that interesting to report despite how content I am with my life at the moment.

I remember awkward conversations with friends who would go on and on about their crazy weekends or wild expeditions with boyfriends and love interests, and after a long monologue they’d say, “Oh gosh, I’ve been going on for ages! What have you been up to?” And every organ and thought and nerve within me would wither and die of embarrassment because I have nothing to say. My life always felt so empty and uninteresting.

When you’re younger, you want to fit in. You want to like what everyone else likes, brag about all the friendships you have and all the crazy things you’re doing because you’re in your 20s. Your 20s are for making mistakes and going wild and then you have the rest of your life to be “boring”. But being “boring” in your 20s? That is simply not an option.

It’s almost as if we’re too dumb to know ourselves well enough in our 20s. All 20-somethings love to go out and have a good time and kiss strangers. And if you don’t, you just haven’t tried it yet or you just need to get yourself out there and then you’ll love it. The only time you’re allowed to be introspective and decide to go down the quieter, homebody path is when you hit 30 it seems.

I knew out of the womb I wasn’t a party girl. I just wish it didn’t take me so long to be okay with that.

I wish I didn’t have to wait until I was a little older to feel comfortable with the fact that I am not the friend you go out drinking all night with. I’m not the friend you try new food places with or go out to dinner with. I’m not the friend you talk to about your one-night stands in a relatable manner. I’m not the friend you can ask if I’ve seen that thing on TikTok. I’m not the friend you meet up with in the evening (regularly). I’m not the friend you go to the pub with (unless maybe it’s got a cute garden or something at a push). I’m not the friend with wild stories of waking up in random places or getting so drunk I did xyz.

I’m the friend you visit at her house and drink hot chocolates with from her fancy velvetiser. I’m the friend you can come to for advice about relationships. I’m the friend who always listens and will be honest if you ask me to. I’m the friend you walk around the city with and wander into charity shops and bookshops with. I’m the friend you picnic with regularly in the summer. I’m the friend you come to for book recommendations. I’m the relaxed friend you don’t have to try hard around. I’m the friend who still likes to loiter in shopping centres like we did when we were teenagers. I’m the daytime friend you see with no makeup on. I’m the friend you see when you want to wind down. I’m the friend you come to when you want someone to really listen.

Some days I still feel like I should be different somehow, that I should embody that extroverted, bubbly 20-something girl who never says no instead of staying in most days to read or crochet or write essays. (Will this feeling ever go away?)

As much as I love Sex and the City—and as much as I want to be Carrie with every fibre of my being—that is just not me. The idea of running around London at night in heels and ordering cosmopolitans at the bar with your girlfriends sounds nice in theory, but in reality, I’d probably be thinking about my bed the whole time. Or how uncomfortable these shoes are. Or how cold it is, how loud the music is, how not drunk I am and don’t wish to be. How much pretending I have to be doing and how exhausted I’d feel for the next two to three business days because I am 70% water and 100% introvert.

Getting older means caring less about others’ opinions of you, but on those more sensitive days, it also means you can finally start throwing around the excuse: “I’m too old for that.” We love a fallback plan.

It feels more valid to say I don’t want to get wasted at 27, to say I’m off to bed at 9 pm at 31. It feels like the older I get the less expectation there is to agree with everyone. People start to form their own opinions about things, they start to feel more confident in themselves, how they want to spend their time. We’re more aware of our mortality. Things like our health become something we need to pay a little more attention to. Things like time don’t seem so frivolous anymore.

So I’m not wasting any more time feeling bad that I might be perceived as boring. I’m 27 now, I’m too old for that.

my happy place: journalling, books, a lit candle, plants (apr 2024)

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Hello lovely readers! Wow, it feels like this week I am finally back in my groove after being ill. I hope you enjoyed this week’s essay. As always, however, I have finished writing another piece thinking “Maybe this is just me?” !! Has anyone else thought we aren’t allowed to be homebodies in our 20s? That there is this lingering expectation to be “outside” all the time? 

Also, a bit of good news from me! After five years of being on immunosuppressants, I am finally medication-free!!! To honour this moment I’ve been waiting for for years, I had a huge shopping spree hehe. But if you were looking for a reason to do something nice for yourself this week, this random girl on Substack coming off her meds is now your excuse. Go and buy something pretty or do something soothing <3

I’ve missed writing while I was ill so hopefully I’ll be back with something poetic later on this week. See you soon!

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