I turn twenty-five in exactly six weeks. With this birthday approaching, I can’t help but notice how stressful life has become. At eighteen, twenty-five felt so far away. I imagined that in those seven years, I would have established my career, found the love of my life, bought a house, and maybe even started a family. I’ve spoken before about my teenage self’s unrealistic expectations for my twenties, but now that I’m halfway through the decade-long rollercoaster, the reality is hitting extra hard.

I made it through undergrad—so at least I can check that off my list, though my student debt is a constant reminder of that accomplishment. But when it comes to the direction of every other aspect of my life, things feel a bit hazy.

Being twenty-five is strange because everyone around me is at drastically different stages. The craziest part? We’re all jealous of each other. The first-time mom and newlywed envy my weekend nights at the bar with friends, while I envy her stability and sense of purpose beyond choosing my next karaoke song. The person who finds meaning in their work envies the one who feels unfulfilled but makes six figures. The single friend is jealous of the one in a seemingly perfect relationship. The girl with a long commute envies the one who works from home. And the list goes on.

I’d love to believe that many of us are content with where we are, but the truth is, I think a lot of us are looking at each other, convinced that if we had what someone else had, we’d finally feel at peace. Of course, the grass isn’t greener—it just looks that way from the other side. Every lifestyle has its pros and cons. But the feeling of being unhappy with your circumstances and not knowing where to start to change them? That sucks. And I have a sneaking suspicion it might linger for the next five years too.

Once we move past the comparison and jealousy, the real challenge begins: figuring out what we truly want. Not what society wants, not what we’ve convinced ourselves we should want, not what our families want for us—but what we, deep down, truly desire in this moment. Honestly, navigating envy feels easier than sorting through my actual wants. I’m learning that starting small is the only way forward.

Because when someone asks me, “What do you want?” in any big-picture sense, I freeze. My personality, values, and goals have changed so much in the past five years that I know I probably won’t even recognize myself at thirty.

But here’s what I know I want right now:

• I want to be loved and to love easily. This has shifted from my teenage dream of being married by twenty-five (clearly, younger me was overly ambitious). I know relationships take effort, but I want love to feel natural—like I wake up one day and think, My life is so much better with you in it, and I can’t believe I ever lived without you. Not a fairytale, just something comforting and real.
• I want a career that feels meaningful. I care less about accolades now and more about whether I feel passionate about what I do. My mind is creative and introspective, and when I can’t use those strengths at work, it drains me.
• I want both routine and stability. Two years ago, I never thought I’d crave structure, but here we are. I want weekly traditions I look forward to. I want to not only make it to church every Sunday but sit in the same spot with the same people who notice when I’m not there.
• I want to make enough money to live comfortably. Let’s be real—no one enjoys struggling to pay bills. But I no longer care about “being rich.” Not one bit. I just want to afford a modest life, pay my bills on time, and take a vacation once a year. Everything else? Not worth the hustle.
• I want a family. This has always been a must for me, but I’m realizing I don’t know exactly what that will look like. Maybe, in my twenties, it’s me and a few pets in a 500-square-foot apartment rather than a husband, two kids, and a golden retriever in a house with a white picket fence.
• I want to feel like I have it together. I titled this Hot Mess Express because that’s what life has felt like lately. On the outside, I’m trying so hard to appear put-together—curled hair, perfect lashes, an outfit that looks like I have my life in order. But inside? I’m wiping away tears in the car before walking in the door.

This post is more raw and personal than usual, but I know I’m not the only one feeling this way. ❤