Quarter-life crisis—or something
They say that when you get to 25, you will have what they call a quarter-life crisis. I guess mine came a year early.
Living in a developing country, I have realized that pursuing one’s passion is a privilege and that my younger self was brave enough to conquer and face this cruel reality. Eight years later, here I am reaping its drastic consequences.
I’ve always had this passion for writing, which led me to take communications as a degree in college. Back then, I had this unexplainable joy—more than a butterfly in my stomach kilig whenever I wrote. It was my solace. I had this eagerness to be part of a change, to make use of my pen to inform people on societal issues that needed to be put in the spotlight, and to freely express my disordered thoughts into coherent sets of words. I felt unstoppable. I was beaming with confidence, hope, and optimism.
I remember during my first day in college, our professors told us, “Walang pera sa Maskom” or “Kung gusto mong yumaman, mag-shift ka na.” All I thought was I just wanted to do what makes me happy. And so I continued pursuing my passion; it was the best four years of my life. The little spark within me continued growing into a blazing ball of fire.
Then came reality. I got my first job at a media company, as expected of a communication student. I was doing the thing I love with compensation below the minimum wage. Still, I was happy.
Then the pandemic happened. A giant media company was shut down. Misinformation and disinformation spread as fast as the COVID-19 virus. Freedom of expression was put in jeopardy. A transition in administration took place. Inflation surged, yet our compensation never moved an inch, and my morale as a writer went downhill. Five years later, the fire was eventually extinguished, soaked in a wave of disappointment and distress.
Realization hit me. I may have loaded my heart with fulfillment, but I might have blinded myself to reality—that I have bills to pay, a family to support, a future to secure, and plans to achieve—things that my passion cannot sustain. Living life is not just about doing what you want; it also includes practicality, especially if one does not have the resources to get by. As someone who wasn’t born with generational wealth, I should have known better—I do not have options for navigating dreams and desires.
Someone told me that if you are looking for a job you should consider these 4Ps: passion, people, purpose, and provision. Passion that will spark motivation; people who will act as a breather when burnout and toxicity arise; purpose that will anchor one’s values and goals; and most importantly, provision, something I overlooked, which will fuel things to make sure you can live for your passion and purpose—pointers that I should highly consider now as I look for my next opportunity. After almost five years of working in the industry I once dreamt of being a part of, I realized it is a norm to be compensated just enough to survive each month, a huge irony given its vital role in society.
Looking back, I sometimes wonder if I was selfish in choosing this path? Or whether picking my passion as bread and butter was a wise and sustainable decision? Questions that up until now remain unanswered.
People usually say that we are still young and we have a lot of time ahead of us to achieve our aspirations, but reality check, nowadays, even time is a luxury.
At 24, I feel that I am trapped in a maze, and though I continue to do my best to move forward, I am still stuck at where I began. No progress and development. All I gained are expectations I cannot reach, trauma I cannot heal, and pressure I cannot relieve.
When I was young, I thought that people my age should already be getting married, building a family, traveling from one place to another, and enjoying work while getting promoted. But now, here I am, trying to get by each day, barely surviving while thinking about how I will budget this little amount of money until my next cut and at the same time, spoil myself to keep my sanity intact. I cannot believe I imagined myself being a wife at 25 when I am not even a girlfriend now. Even the thought of bearing a child has never crossed my mind and I guess never will in this economy. At this age, I am still putting water inside my shampoo bottle to make sure I consume every single particle inside. I still check my Co-Star to know where my life is headed this week based on my zodiac sign and blame mercury retrograde for every single inconvenience that happens.
There are a few months left until I turn 25, but I guess I will welcome it with dying passion and abandoned enthusiasm. The only thing I can do as I traverse this quarter-life crisis is to hope that I will have the strength to face what life has to offer, enthusiasm to reignite the spark within me, and dream that eventually the universe will lay out its plan in my favor.
Carissa Joyce Reyno, 24, is an Aries. According to her Co-Star, “There will be a chance and opportunity that affects the deepest part of your psyche.” She doesn’t get it.
