A Teenage Popstar’s Quarter Life Crisis

I recently listened to a podcast episode on TED Business where they explore a presentation journalist Shankar Vendantam gives on the “illusion of continuity,” or the belief that our future selves will share the same beliefs, perspectives, and hopes/dreams as our current selves. Here is the link, in case you would like to listen to it before continuing (which I invite you to do so): https://open.spotify.com/episode/66ltlMbEOuiiWPqOI7OpKk?si=0DZbv1udQACrvsNSO8BDJg

  Vendantam talks about how when we look backwards, we can so clearly see the vast difference between the person we currently are to the person we were when we were ten (or five or twenty or thirty-five). We don’t consider that this contrast will be reflected in our future selves as well. Instead, we put insurmountable pressure on ourselves, trying to predict what actions we should take to make ourselves happy in the long run. With the knowledge that we are “constantly becoming a new person,” how is it possible to understand or know what our future selves will want? Well, we can’t… And believing we do has the potential to ruin our lives (as Stephanie and John’s story showed us).

When I first listened to this episode, I’m not going to lie. I kind of had a quarter life crisis. (Yes. They are real.) It was one of those moments that made me question my decision making (and, if I’m being honest, basically the entire purpose of life). I mean, hello? We have it ingrained to constantly figure out what we want to do or how we want to feel according to our future selves, whether it’s picking our forever careers, the person we are going to spend the rest of our lives with, or finding the best friend who will be by our side through thick and thin. How completely bonkers is that? 

I remember every career choice I believed I would pursue (in chronological order): Popstar, wildlife expert (Fatal Attractions ruined that one), chef, pastry chef, writer/author, psychologist, detective (took a bit of a turn there), life coach, and writer (again… though let’s be real. This desire never really went away, hence this blog). Despite these changes, you don’t see me giving my 5-year old self (and sometimes my 15-year self) a hard time for believing that I would someday walk the red carpet and partake in a love triangle between two particular boyband members. Okay, the latter was mainly my 15-year old self. Regardless, why should we criticize our adult selves for choosing something that simply didn’t end up working for us? Why should every decision we make feel as though we are walking the tightrope of our success?

Then there is the panic surrounding the ferris wheel of Starting Over. The dizzying ride of facing change and helplessly going along for the rounds. Funny how the only things that are promised in life are usually the ones we perceive as the most uncomfortable or terrifying. What I’ve come to realize is that eventually, you do get to get off the ferris wheel, no matter how many times you ride it. 

And what is the worst that could happen? You throw up? You cry? You completely change direction? Sure, it is scary, and perhaps slightly embarrassing, to think that the carefully crafted decision you made had to be scratched and you must start anew. Yet how liberating! That with every midnight comes a new dawn. That every day has the potential for a new page, a change. Again, what is the worst that can happen? Seriously. You start over and find something to suit your evolved self? You ended a friendship that was already draining you? You dated someone who taught you what you won’t tolerate in a relationship anymore? Change stretches and morphs us to expand on who we already are. 

So, instead of asking, “Will this suit my future needs/desires?,” maybe we should be asking, “Does this fulfill my needs/desires now?” The person you are now is the only one who knows and the person you are later will surely thank you. 

Cheers to us, in this present moment.

-Alexia