The Velvet Type

What Loneliness in your 20s is actually Like

Who doesn’t love to end the week with yet another crashout?

I usually give a more general overview of my feelings rather than delving into my life. But let’s get real… So grab yourself a sweet treat, a crispy drink, and let’s chat.

I’m 25 and not for much longer. December always feels like its own separate month, a time of endings and the preparation for new beginnings. With the new year right around the corner, and my birthday two short days after, you can’t help but reflect on your past experiences.

My past year? Oh boy, it was eye-opening. I spent most of my time traveling across Europe; it sounds lovely in the grand scheme of things. You’ll get people saying “Wow! That’s incredible,” or “You must have had so much fun!” and the truth isn’t what they want to hear. So I nod in compliance and reply with a, “Oh, yes! So beautiful…”

My year? It’s been filled with the most gut-wrenching realizations that have rocked me to my core. I felt no more stable if I was on a melting ice berg with one last piece of beef jerky than I did sitting on a beach in the Italian Riviera. So what happened, you ask? You didn’t ask, but I’ll tell you anyway.

I realized everything in life is made up. Yes, it sounds cliché, but seriously. We are born into this world with this consciousness that develops over time. We are told how to act, behave, and how to speak, as well as what has meaning.

We have specific ideas reinforced in our minds over and over again… We are told that if we do this, that, and the other thing, we’ll be successful and happy. But it’s all a lie. I graduated from high school, graduated from college, and was pushed out into the world expecting to conquer all.

Well, I was rudely awakened. There is no rule book, no cheat sheet, or special formula. You will see people online living their ‘dream life’ or selling ‘get rich quick’ e-books. They tell you how to structure your days, what to eat, how to breathe, and think. Is that all life is? A compilation of someone else’s ideas we’re supposed to follow that guides us to the end of the rainbow with our pot of gold?

You see other people in their 20s getting engaged, married, having kids, all while you replay every misstep you’ve ever taken. They flaunt their job promotions, their new apartment, as they post about their co-worker’s birthday party that was ‘life-changing.’ Was it really that life-altering, Chad?

Yes, I traveled across Europe this past year, and you know what I saw?

People everywhere. They fill the streets and cafes as they chat with friends, co-workers, and lovers. They walk for hours, sit in parks, and dance in bars to live music. What I saw was people together, laughing, sharing endless smiles. They would hold hands, walk arm in arm, steal brief kisses on the cheek.

I thought, damn, this is lonely, let me go hike a mountain. What did I find on that mountain? More people, enduring the climb side by side. Everywhere I looked, I was seeing others live I life I sought. But it wasn’t their job, what brand clothes they were wearing, the handbag strapped across their shoulder, it was the hand they were holding, the easy smiles they were sharing.

I realized I’m 25 and the loneliest I’ve ever felt in my life. Maybe I’ve always been lonely, but for some reason it feels raw, a scabbed-over wound ripped open, gushing and exposed. My mind wandered to past romantic relationships and friendships, as I analyzed every moment in an attempt to better understand this feeling.

I realized I’ve never been seen. Now, this is a layered and complex set of emotions and personal psychoanalysis. But I never truly let someone peer into me to witness all the good, bad, and ugly. I never let anyone pick apart my soul to take a peek at what’s inside because I locked it all away.

In every friendship, in every partner I’ve had, at one point or another, I bit back my tongue, held my breath, pushed and buried feelings deep within to never be unearthed. I would nod in agreement with something I didn’t agree to, silence myself to please another, go out of my way to do something for someone who I knew wouldn’t appreciate it, but sought their validation anyway.

No one tells you that when you constantly keep burying parts of yourself, they soon become inconceivable. What was once a bottle with a hidden thought or feeling soon gets lost at sea. I spent the past year of my life wondering how I had become so alone, stranded, and barely keeping my head above water.

It’s ironic, really, because it used to be one of my greatest fears, and yet I somehow pulled an uno reverse and did it to myself. But hey, if no one’s around, there’s no one to disappoint or hurt you… But what kind of life is that?

My main thought this past year was, “Wow, this would be so much better if there were someone here to share this with.”

But I was there alone, standing at the top of a mountain, breathing in the freshest air, sipping crisp, divine spring water from melted ice caps, feeling lonely.

I tried to follow the script. I did what I was taught to do. But it never felt… enough… There has always been this hollowed-out chasm that couldn’t be filled with materialistic goals or perceptions of success. It sits, hungry and ravaging for something to feast on, and I went across the world to look for it.

But I didn’t find it.

So now I’m sitting in France, typing out my thoughts in a place no one will see, confessing the life-altering realization that I’m so sick of being alone. I used to think I was fine being alone; it was easier to just do it by myself, and I didn’t even mind. But now? It feels like my heart is balanced on a glass pedestal and one wrong move will cause it to shatter.

I never felt fragile before, but this past year has stripped away everything I thought I knew about myself. It dragged up every buried bit and exposed it to the blinding light in a violent attempt to better understand my true desires.

I silently beg for someone, anyone, to see me. To peer into my eyes and understand what has my insides so twisted. I could turn the Sarah Desert into a rainforest with the tears I’ve shed over the past year. No one said your 20s would be so damn hard.

But, despite my bleeding heart, I wake up and keep trying. I look for new jobs that may place me in a position to meet more like-minded people. People who offer depth, intellectually stimulating conversations, and who carry the same ocean of empathy that I do.

I keep trying to find out where I belong because I can’t keep quiet anymore. I can’t keep my head down and be another cog in the wheel of corporate corruption. I want my voice to be heard, I want to be seen and witnessed. To find my community so I can one day finally feel like I belong somewhere.

And when I do, the gratitude will be nearly euphoric because when I wanted to give up, when I held myself and cried silent tears into my pillow, I kept trying.

So, for my girls in my 20s, if you read this… You’re not alone in feeling alone. We are all just new to this life and trying all the same. But know, I hear you, and I see you.

Signing off,