Twenty-something and Terrified
March 18, 2024
Writer: Carlie Pavell
Editor: Maddie Tarica
As I count down the months until my 20th birthday, I am filled with a sense of dread. Entering my twenties, an era that once seemed so far away and filled with possibilities now hangs over my head, reminding me of all I have yet to accomplish. I used to picture my twenties as a Sex and the City episode. I would turn twenty, and just like that, my life would look exactly like Carrie’s, Charlotte’s, Samantha’s, or Miranda’s. I would have a job that I loved, a beautiful apartment, and, of course, a closet full of designer clothes. I would be sure of my choices and my place in the world.
In reality, the prospect of turning twenty terrifies me, and it is not just this birthday that I have feared – I can’t remember a year passing when I didn’t cry as I blew out the candles. Each passing year feels like a clock counting down to my inevitable entrance to adulthood. Truthfully, I don't feel old enough to be turning 20. 20-year-olds used to feel so mature and all-knowing. But as August 12th creeps closer and closer, I feel nothing like the fabulous New Yorkers from Sex and the City that I spent countless hours watching on my TV screen. I feel like I don’t know anything at all.
This feeling of being an imposter is not new to me. I have faced it all my life, constantly wondering if I was worthy of being somewhere. When I first arrived at Tulane, a few months later than most, I refrained from raising my hand in class, afraid that during the time that I had spent at the university across the street, everyone else learned everything they would ever need to know.
Even when writing this, I stared blankly at an empty page, the impatient cursor blinking back at me. It seemed to echo my own thoughts, taunting me, “Writing is the thing you claim to be good at? You can’t even think of anything to say!”
Sometimes, giving in to that voice in my head is easy. Who am I to write about combating imposter syndrome when I struggle to get through a five-minute class presentation without feeling inadequate?
This semester, I decided to take a class called “Taylor Your Life” because I thought it would be an easy way to get credits. A few weeks into the class, our professor walked into the room and began the most influential lesson yet. The topic was imposter syndrome. Each student was required to share a fear about entering the “real world”. I looked around the room at ten unfamiliar faces in various stages of life: some seniors with jobs lined up after graduation, some international students coming to America for the first time to go to college, and some sophomores looking to figure out what they want to do with their degrees. No matter the circumstance, our fears echoed each other; no one felt ready to be an adult, and no one felt smart enough or qualified enough to face the real world—even (if not especially) the people who already had an offer lined up for after graduation.
It was at that moment, on the fourth floor of the library, in a room full of people whom I barely knew, that I realized that maybe I wasn’t the only one who felt like I was lacking answers. Maybe even the people who seem to have no doubts secretly wonder if they are good enough. Do I still feel imposter syndrome on many days? Of course. But now, I know that I am not alone. So, as I approach my twentieth birthday with this shifted mindset, I’m more aware than ever that maybe no one really has it figured out. Besides, the women in Sex and the City were in their thirties, anyway.