Between the Blurring Lines
"Life is not a race."
"You don't have to figure it all out."
"There's no need to rush."
These are just some of the phrases I keep seeing everywhere on social media, gentle advice aimed at young adults who are just starting to navigate life on their own. It's not that I'm actively seeking out this kind of guidance. It's more like the algorithm knows exactly what to feed me because these messages pop up constantly. And even when they're not on my feed, I encounter them in books, or I overhear them in conversations whenever people chat nearby, bits of advice drifting into my ears unintentionally. I understand what they mean. I know these words are true and well-intentioned. But it's incredibly hard to actually live by them when your mind is wired with a constant urge to do everything fast, to get it right and to make sure everything makes sense all the time.
Last time I was chatting with my colleague, we were talking about how weird this year feels. For half the year you're still a student and then suddenly for the other half, you're an adult who has to work full-time. It's these rapid time shifts that keep us awake at night. While we were discussing it, we realized we weren't the only ones lying there overthinking the exact same thing. It feels like almost everyone is caught in this collective post-uni dilemma, constantly wondering what's next. There's this blurry line between desperately wanting the days to speed up so you can just graduate and get the degree already and at the same time feeling completely lost about which path to take once it's all over.
It's not easy to let go of your student life. You've spent 2 years in prep and kindergarten, 6 years in elementary school, another 6 in junior and senior high school and then 4 years in college that's almost 18 years of structured academic life. All that time, your main worries were assignments piling up, activities, semesters and campus life. You literally grew up thinking about those things. Then one day, you wake up and you're no longer a student. Suddenly you're an adult who's expected to work, contribute to society and you know, become an employee who pays more taxes.
The shift is brutal. Job hunting feels like stepping into the unknown with barely any guidance—most of the time, no one teaches you how to apply properly, you just have to figure it out on your own. The safety net you had as a student slowly fades away, while the stable adult professional life you want isn't guaranteed. You have to build it brick by brick.
And the worst part? There were moments as a student when you felt like you'd learned so much, only to become an adult and realize you know almost nothing at all. That feeling hits hard and it deeply resonates with the Taylor Swift song "Nothing New" feat. Phoebe Bridgers, especially the line:
"How did I go from growin' up to breakin' down
And I wake up (wake up) in the middle of the night
It's like I can feel time moving
How can a person know everything at eighteen
But nothing at twenty-two?
And will you still want me when I'm nothin' new?"
For years, you were defined by grades, group projects and those late-night rants about crushing academic loads. You entered college juggling 10 subjects at once not just academics but life itself, yourself included and somehow, it was bearable. More than that, it was memorable. You could laugh through the chaos. Then suddenly, you're down to just 2 more subjects. The schedule feels so much lighter but your heart feels heavier. It's like those last two fragile threads are the only things still tying you to the only life you've ever really known. Once they're gone, everything changes—everything ends.
I want to laugh at myself for grieving something that hasn't even happened yet. Or maybe this is just my way of emotionally bracing myself so the sadness doesn't catch me off guard, so I don't feel completely lost or surprised. Maybe it's because walking away quickly is all I've ever known before anyone else could leave first.
Going from being a student, whose records and future were carefully prioritized and protected by the registrar—to just another resume lost in a massive pile is unsettling.
You blur through applications, trying different paths and jobs, yet you keep circling back to the one thing you’ve always known, teaching. You tell yourself (and everyone else) that you don’t want it but it’s literally all you’ve ever really known. That’s the complete paradox not wanting it, yet having nothing else feel familiar or safe.
Applying feels like competing against strangers you’ll never meet, the world runs on competition, and if you don’t play, you get left behind. But deep down, you don’t even want to compete.The freedom you spent years chasing? Now that it’s here, it’s terrifying—almost destructive. No structure, no clear next step, no one telling you what to do. It’s just you, deciding whether to guide your life toward peace or toward your own destruction.
Right now, I feel exactly like Eren Yeager, standing at that edge, knowing the choice is mine alone and both paths feel heavy.
Or maybe it's when you suddenly feel this deep identity shift inside you. You look back at the younger version of yourself who wanted everything the world could offer, the titles, the money, the power, the big achievements and you get hit with the realization that none of it truly matters. You end up laughing at yourself the same way you used to laugh at adults who said they just wanted a simple life on a farm. Back then, you thought they were just giving up or following some societal script. But now you see it, they weren't following society's rules at all, they'd discovered that real peace is what actually matters most in life.
These days, I can confidently say there's nothing I want more in this world than seeing my family whole, healthy and happy, the people I cherish most smiling and truly living with joy. At the end of the day, you can't fight what has been true throughout all of human history. It's not about blindly following the path laid out for you, it's about how you shape your own life into something wonderful. It's doing whatever feels right to you, as long as it doesn't hurt anyone just nurturing your soul and making sure you go to sleep and wake up each day with a genuine heart and pure intentions. Even without titles, possessions, or wealth things you can never take with you anyway.
Amid all these blurring lines, one question lingers: "Can we ever truly get rid of our demons?"
The hardest battle you'll ever fight is the one against yourself. In this whirlwind of rapid change, people will leave or you'll be the one who leaves. The faces you see every day, the people you spend time with right now, won't be there in the coming months. Time pulls everyone apart, and suddenly you're stepping into a world you know nothing about.
Yet you have no real choice but to keep moving forward, to figure things out, to show up, to be strong. Because at the end of the day, that's just how life is.

