Turning 25 feels like crossing an invisible threshold, one I didn’t know I was walking toward until suddenly it’s just over a month away.
I finished university, and like many others, I left with a degree I wasn’t sure how to use. And that’s okay, more people are in the same boat than you’d think. Some are working jobs completely unrelated to their studies. Some are exploring different paths. Some are figuring it out one odd contract or side hustle at a time. There’s no perfect blueprint.
Friendships have changed, too. Some have faded so slowly I barely noticed until months passed without a text. Others ended more abruptly, in silence or in words we didn’t know how to take back. And while that used to hurt more, I’ve started to understand that not every friendship is meant to last forever, some are there for a season, to teach you something, to get you through a phase, or to remind you of who you were at a certain time in your life.
But there’s beauty in that, too. Because some friendships come back. A message out of the blue turns into a conversation that feels like no time has passed at all. People grow and change, and sometimes they grow in the same direction again. I’ve had friends I thought I lost forever find their way back into my life, and this time, the connection feels deeper, more mature, more honest.
I’ve also made new friends in places I didn’t expect to: through work, mutual friends at parties, while travelling, and even online. These aren’t always instant soulmates. Sometimes they start small; a shared joke, a kind gesture, and slowly become the people you text when something exciting (or awful) happens. You realize that good friendships don’t always look like what you imagined in high school. They’re less about constant communication and more about feeling seen, supported, and safe when you do talk.
The hardest part has been accepting that friendship isn’t about quantity. It’s not about having a big group chat or always being surrounded by people. It’s about depth. About knowing someone truly has your back. About being there for each other when it counts, even if you haven’t spoken in a while. And learning to be okay with the gaps in between.
In your twenties, friendship becomes less about proximity and more about intention. It’s not always convenient. People move, work different schedules, change priorities. But the ones who want to stay in your life will make space for you, and you’ll do the same. It might not look like the sleepovers and spontaneous hangouts of your teens, but there’s something beautiful in growing alongside people who are also just trying to figure life out.
Relationships? That’s a whole chapter in itself. There have been casual flings, awkward first dates, hilarious miscommunications, and a few moments that made me question everything, but also some really beautiful connections. Some experiences were fleeting but fun, others taught me more about myself than I expected. Through it all, I’ve learned many things, good and a bit questionable, but I wouldn’t want to change that.
Somewhere in the mix of late-night conversations, coffee dates, travel crushes, and “what are we?” talks, I’ve started to see that love doesn’t always come in a lightning bolt moment. Sometimes it builds, quietly, patiently, and sometimes it surprises you. Whether it’s something short-lived or something long-term, relationships in your twenties remind you how capable you are of loving, learning, and growing. They aren’t just about finding “the one”, they’re about discovering different versions of yourself along the way. And that, honestly, feels kind of magical.
Travel, everyone says “do it while you’re young.” And I have. I’ve wandered cobblestone streets in Europe, walked the hills of Hobbiton, eaten tacos on a beach in Mexico, and lived out of a suitcase longer than I ever expected. And honestly? I wouldn’t change it. Travel has opened my eyes to new cultures, people, food, and perspectives. It’s taught me how to navigate unfamiliar places (and train stations), adapt when plans change, and feel at home even when I’m far from it.
But sometimes, I do wonder; where does it all get you? Is it just a series of Instagram posts and postcards? Is it avoidance? Is it the “right” thing to do, or just the most romanticized?
The truth is, it’s not always glamorous. There are missed connections, bad Airbnbs, language barriers, and days where you feel completely alone in a crowd. But there’s also a kind of magic in that discomfort. You discover so much about yourself when you’re in a new city with no familiar safety net, when you have to make decisions, find your way, meet new people, or just sit with yourself in silence at a café.
Some of my best memories live in those moments; watching a sunset in a place I may never return to, laughing uncontrollably with someone, or simply getting lost and finding something better than what I was originally looking for.
Travel hasn’t “solved” my life, but it’s added layers to it. It’s given me stories, perspective, friendships, and an understanding of how big (and small) the world really is. It made me realize I can be brave, that I can make it on my own, and that sometimes you just have to book the ticket and trust that the rest will follow.
So is it worth it? Definitely. But it’s not the answer to everything, it’s just one chapter in figuring it all out. A really good chapter.
At times, I’ve felt behind. Like I’m not on the same timeline as everyone else. Not sure what job I want. Not sure what city I want to live in. Not sure if I’m doing this whole “adult” thing right. And while I’d love to say I’ve figured it all out. I haven’t. Should I be listening to Mel Robbins? Should I be waking up at 5am and cold plunging and journaling with a gratitude pen? Should I just take the stable job and stack savings, or risk it all to pursue something creative?
There’s no clear answer. And that might be the point.
The first half of your twenties is strange. You go from being told what to do every year of your life; school, graduation, next steps, to suddenly having full control. No rules. No road map. No bumpers on the bowling lane. You can do almost anything (within reason… let’s be real), and that freedom is both thrilling and terrifying. You start to realize how deeply human everyone is. No one – not a single person – has it fully figured out.
And weirdly, that helps.
So here I am, nearly 25, standing in that in-between space. A little lost, a little hopeful. I don’t know what’s next, but I do know I’m not alone in feeling this way. And if you’re reading this thinking, same, then I’m glad we’re in it together.
Because this might not be the most stable, certain, or polished chapter of life… But it sure as hell is an interesting one.
Halfway to Somewhere 