I’m Only 18, But I’m Going Through A Quarter-Life Crisis

I am eighteen, and I think I’m going through a quarter-life crisis.

I’m struggling with my identity.  I cannot define what I am, and I cannot say for sure who exactly I am. My friends tell me I take things “a tad too seriously” for an eighteen year old, that I hold too much weight in words. They say that I am an over-analyst, that I care too much for the things that mean so little.

“Lighten up! Just go with the flow.” I’ve heard this from my friends, family, and loved ones, time and again. I’ve heard people tell me how I overreact over the smallest of things, how I need to stop overthinking.

But I can’t help it, I can’t help it.  I can’t help but to wonder, is that all there is to me? What am I here for? I have yet to answer this question and it frustrates me. I have yet to find out who I honestly truly am and it scares me because suddenly time feels like it’s accelerating at top speed and I’m struggling to catch up with all the change in the world.

I am eighteen, and I think I’m going through a quarter-life crisis.

I wish I was more sure about myself, about my decisions. When I was twelve I envisioned that at eighteen, I’d be the best version of myself, I’d be “at my prime,” the best I could be. I thought I would have graduated out of school and I would be dancing and would be teaching ballet to little seven-year-old children. I’d be living the life I dreamed and I’d be so sure of myself and I’d have control of all the things in my life.

But that is not the case. Right now at eighteen, I am a fickle mind, a fickle heart. Everything of the world seems so transient, and nothing is ever as it seems. One day I feel like I’ve got it all together and the next day I’m down crumbling again and I don’t quite know where I’m headed for. I no longer am dancing, I quit a few years back, and right now my body craves for a dance in my life, for me to be able to move with the grace and confidence I used to possess when I was twelve. I am unsure of myself, every step or move I make is peppered with self doubt, and I feel like I’m walking over broken glass, like I could hurt myself any moment. I’m wary of everything around me, so so wary.

Everything seems so unsure, and I feel like a child groping around in the dark. I can’t even see my toes, much less my future.

I am eighteen and I think I’m going through a quarter-life crisis.

I struggle to accept myself. I struggle to come to terms with my flaws, and they stand out to me more and more each day. The way I laugh a little too loud, the way I trip over my own two feet. The way I talk a little too fast, or how my hips stick out a little weird. I struggle to believe that everyone else has flaws too. Society has made me believe that I will never be good enough, that I will never fit in. From my “too noisy for my own good” mannerisms, to the small minute details of how I stand in a crowd, I struggle to convince myself that “hey, everyone feels this way too.”

People around me move with an elegance I am jealous of. People around me are so gracious and kind and beautiful, I wish I was just a fraction as amazing and charismatic as them. I’m struggling to love myself.

People always tell me that things will get better, but really is that the case?

I am an eighteen-year-old girl, and I’m going through a quarter life crisis. I’m struggling to understand myself, struggling with my identity. Right now I’m barely a quarter way through my life, and I don’t know if I can bear another three quarters of it feeling this way.