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100 Stories // * 9. What does it mean to have your life together?

One of the more treacherous conditions of living your best twenties life is the whole conundrum of having, or getting, your sh!t together. How many of us wake up on a precious Sunday in rented digs or at home (me!), lukewarm coffee in hand - because Snapchat and Instagram distracted you on the way back from the kitchen - and wonder how on Earth our peers seem to be so cool and collected, safe in the knowledge that they own their own home and possibly have an engagement ring on their hands and don’t post thousands of I-hate-Monday memes on their suspiciously devoid-of-attention social media channels? I do.

So often we feel the societal pressure to suddenly grow up. School, college, University and then we must suddenly already know the ropes of Grown Up Life. Of adulting. ‘So you have a degree? What’s next? Climbing that career ladder? Ooh, tell me all about your lovely other half. Oh, you don’t have one? Don’t worry, a pretty girl like you will be snapped up in no time.’

Are you settling down or are you taking off? Planting roots or discovering horizons anew?


I think I'm often guilty of indulging in one too many hours of an essential Netflix marathon (I mean, we all need me-time sometimes), of spontaneous nights out where I don’t come home until 2am, of being lacksadaisy and sometimes sloppy about decisions, of sneaking ice-cream at midnight and chocolate in my breakfast, of skipping yoga, of wearing trainers all the time or of not being able to focus and concentrate for longer than 15 minutes, sometimes. Sometimes I’m not as put-together and polished as people assume and that’s fine, you know? I’m definitely-maybe just an at-your-whimsy, haphazardly chase my dreams kinda person.

What if all of this, our very own way of finding good in every moment and every day, is the very crux of ‘getting it together’? I think it’s all about our own paths and crafting our own stories. You know that little niggling voice in your head that squeals, ‘F it’ before you embark on a terrible decision? Perhaps this is getting our sh!t together, stumbling from one mistake to another but unconsciously learning along the way. How would you, of course, get it together if you haven’t let the very beginnings fall apart first?

“Later she remembered all the hours of the afternoon as happy -- one of those uneventful times that seem at the moment only a link between past and future pleasure, but turn out to have been the pleasure itself.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender is the Night.

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