(This is not about money or LinkedIn or CV's. This is about music and mentality and sometimes having a big cry.)
“I don’t have the answers Gabs…I wish I did, but I don’t,” these are the words that my mother chose as I sobbed on the sofa for the umpteenth time this Summer. They are good words. Honest and earnest. She followed this up by changing the subject “I might go and put shorts on. It’s too hot”. This was less good, but understandable. I’d be bored of me too. My mind would have wandered in the lazy-making heat to consider whether the long-standing alliance with my wardrobe could be strengthened by the efficient trade deal: one long skirt in exchange for a pair of linen shorts.
She is trying her best, bless her. I have never for one second doubted that my mum does anything but try her best for my brother and I. She is selfless, kind, fiercely dependable, and gives very good hugs. She has slender legs and blue eyes and blonde hair and all my friends have always made comments about how beautiful she is, and I choose to bring this fact up loudly every time I feel my dad isn’t appreciating her enough. She works hard and quietly, but laughs loudly and uncontrollably at immature things like farts and people pretending to throw up, and it is with a smile that I notice myself becoming more and more like her as I grow up.
Yesterday, whilst I was swinging absent-mindedly on the hammock at the back of the garden I heard my Nan comment to my mum from the table by the window, “she looks just like you from afar”. I didn’t hear my mum’s response but I thought, “I wish I looked just like her up close as well”.
My mother is settled, kind, trying her best to find the answers but ultimately knowing that my confusion is a young woman’s battle. One that she has already fought and conquered and one that must be encountered alone. Now her battles seem much smaller, more manageable campaigns like the trade deal with the wardrobe or the occasionally crusade to Costco.
So what are the answers? What, in an ideal world, would I want someone to say to me? I started thinking long and hard about it. All the advice I had given out to friends in similar predicaments over the last few months. Sometimes I felt like I was clutching at straws, handing out buckets to friends in the same hole-riddled boat as I. Friends with jobs or Masters courses or an unwavering amount of self-confidence (they’ll crack soon, surely?), waving at me in a sympathetic (but slightly smug way) from the shoreline. The elegance of their waves was just another skill on their broad and promising CV’s. I’m sure to like a post on LinkedIn about it soon.
But maybe, just maybe, straws are enough. Maybe with all the advice, the promises, and sage words of wisdom, we can thatch something like a roof to huddle beneath and shelter from the cold Winter of unemployment, council tax…disillusionment with the realities of adult life.
One of my favourites is from Oscar Wilde. He says “If you want to be a grocer, or a general, or a politician, or a judge, you will invariably become it; that is your punishment. If you never know what you want to be, if you live what some might call the dynamic life but what I will call the artistic life, if each day you are unsure of who you are and what you know you will never become anything, and that is your reward.”
I like this quote very much. It makes my lack of decisive direction seem artsy and purposeful. It makes me feel poetic. I like repeating it also because even knowing it and knowing that Oscar Wilde came up with it re-affirms my literary status. I do not tell people that I first heard it from the mouth of Stephen Fry on a radio show that I only listened to because Harry Styles was also on at the same time. That would be bad, devastatingly uncool, and decidedly not aloof or artsy in the slightest.
So if your struggling graduate friend or your struggling self is anything like me, here is the first thing you might like to tell them/yourself: you not knowing what you want to do is a gift. It does not feel like it most of the time but it is a gift that promises possibility. It is sparkling, elusive and transforming. The true beauty is that you might never fully find it but what you will do, and I promise you this, is uncover more in each step you take. You will learn so much from the things you love and even more from the things that you realise you despise. And this is not easy in the slightest bit and you will have to train yourself to remember the wonderfulness of this. Perhaps everyday.
But let’s imagine, just for a second, the horror of having always known that you wanted to be a doctor, or a YouTuber, or a politician, or the person that designs the stamps that go on the certificates that you have to acquire if you want to go duck hunting. And you work hard for it. That glimmering future is proud and righteous in your mind’s eye as you study and perfect your guild. Then, after all the fuss and sweat, you reach it. And you find that the view up there on that pedestal is not as good as you thought it might be and actually, you’re not very happy up there at all. But for all your years of living you had not once considered this possibility and now you are stuck. Aimless. Mourning the loss of not only that one dream but all the dreams and experiences you cast aside in allegiance to it. That would be worse. Far worse. I hold this knowledge close to my heart. It is a shield from all those who seem to be marching along a much more direct path than I.
Among course mates and friends from home alike, careers suddenly began to feel like a competition. I have a sneaking suspicion this feeling is also hugely ameliorated by social media and the constant knowledge of what everyone else is doing. It’s disorientating having your teammates suddenly become your rivals. But the old adage is true, and it is only ever the successful ones shouting. I know this, as someone whispering at the reunion.
Now the second thing is this. Work is not everything. As humans we are predisposed to consider and discover our identity. Identifying with things make us feel like we’re a part of something bigger than ourselves, simultaneously combatting loneliness and giving us purpose. Some identities are big like ‘woman’, ‘hispanic’, ‘bisexual’. Some are small like being from a certain friendship group or from your family or in your relationship. Getting a job feels like it allows you a new identity. A responsible, adult, cosmopolitan, professional identity that represents your intelligence, your ambitions, your aims, and your dedication. It seems like a very exclusive and fun identity to be able to claim. But here’s the thing, just because you cannot yet make claim to this identity does not mean you are any less intelligent, ambitious or hardworking. You do not need a title or a lanyard to know these things about yourself. You do not have to have someone buy your art to qualify that you are an artist, or have someone hire you for your 'interpersonal skills' to know that you were a personable, well-liked, creative person to begin with.
Now this next piece of advice, was gifted to me about love, but I have repurposed it and I think it works rather well across the board : You can never know that everything will work out. Ever. You can never know that the person you are with, even if you marry them, will not leave you. Or, in this situation; you can never know that you will be able to find the job you want and the perfect career immediately. All you can ever know in life is that you will be okay if these things do not happen. Having yourself is your one sure thing. So spend time trying to make being with yourself a fun place to be. And have faith that if you follow your passion and your intuition, things will work out. They have worked out okay enough so far. You are here and you have things to be proud of.
So take time to work on your other identifiers, your smaller passion projects, the things that those with proper adult jobs will be envious you have had the time to do; become a film buff or a voracious reader; become green fingered and known for eclectic playlists; become well travelled and get a reputation for being a flirt; become knowledgable with cocktail recipes and fast to cut vegetables. Finance all this with a shitty job (probably in a bar or in retail or in something you don't care about at all) where good people your age will also undoubtedly be biding their time in the liminal queue to claiming a job-related identity that they like. Remember that this is good, mess around a bit whilst you’re in the wings. You’ve got a lifetime ahead of you on the main stage.
Have faith that not having your ideal job does not make you any less qualified to have it. Your mind, body, soul, is no different from the day you get a job to the day before. All that has changed is someone else has seen the potential you have been showing the entire time. Do not let your own self image flail and falter as you wait for others to notice that potential. Don't spend time looking through the eyes of people that don't really see you. Try and be self- assured in your abilities.
Now thirdly, and this is the time-sensitive part, we are in the weirdest time in the world right now. Never before, has the world seemed so loose on its axis and so whimsical in its fancies. But you already know this and it feels pointless and unpragmatic to keep bringing it up. I, myself, am weary of all the words related to it. Nonetheless, the fact that you graduated after zoom classes and the pressure cooker that was your student house, even if you lived with your closest and most supportive friends, is a small miracle that should not be forgotten or thought of lightly. Cherish this miracle closely and with relish before moving on to the next adventure. Know that when things do start coming your way, which they will, you have made that happen for yourself during extraordinary circumstances.
Be kind to your parents and/or to all those who are older and seeking to help you. Things were so different when they were your age and no one, for the record, is ever going to be able to comprehend completely your inner weather; all the things you struggle with and have experienced. You can allow this fact make you lonely or you can allow it to feel precious and comforting.
Celebrate loudly the moments you do feel seen.
It is always good to end with poetry and music. Jenny Slate wrote this, and I have thought about it relentlessly since the day I read it,
“As the image of myself becomes sharper in my brain and more precious, I feel less afraid that someone else will erase me by denying me love”.
Allow yourself to also feel less afraid that someone else will erase you by denying you an internship, or a job, or work experience. Realise how bizarrely inferior these things sound when compared to someone denying you love.
Listen to Vienna by Billy Joel or Twenty Something by SZA and feel comforted in the knowledge that feeling lost and overwhelmed and lonely in your early twenties is a universal experience and that these feelings, like all feelings, shall pass. Be proud that you are the strongest type of person if you can admit to feeling these things. There is so much strength in being vulnerable. That is a strength some people take a lifetime to learn.
Treat yourself with kindness. Look at your reflection with the knowing that if you work hard and you are honest with yourself and you do your genuine best that that is all you can ever do. And that your best includes giving yourself a break. Know that you try not because it is easy but despite the fact that it is hard.
Finally, I’ll end on some paternal advice. The advice is short, fairly aggressive, and does not much match my style of writing, nor the comfort I have aimed to provide here but I feel it is important to share.
My father is not as good as my mother with the advice or with the listening, or at cooking bad that's a cheap shot and besides the point. The other day I saw him remove a hornet from the house with a lot of care and patience and for a short while I felt quite jealous of the hornet in that cup and the guidance it had instantly garnered from my father. But sometimes he strikes gold. A little while ago I was venting to my mother again, this time on the phone, and my father from the other side of the room screamed “For Christ’s sake Gabs - ENJOY YOUR LIFE,” and I think having someone scream at you to 'enjoy your life' with rage is just what you need to hear sometimes.