The Twenties Regret: I, Too, Have a List of Terrible Mistakes
By: Ellen Mcrae
Tags: Relationships, Self Improvement, Life Lessons, Life, Love

“Don’t do what I did,” starts Jessica Wildfire in her article “A Heartbreaking List of Terrible Mistakes I Made in My 20s.”

I read the story of her post-date coffee, detailing her life as a community college teacher, ‘screwing things up’. And I empathetically wince as she describes her ‘blast’ of a life. Her life feels a little too familiar.

In fact, her mistakes are way too much like mine for comfort.

I, much like Jessica, sit at home wondering what went wrong. Usually whilst I eat my two-minute noodles, contemplating my upcoming thirty-second birthday.

Every inconsequential occasion that defined my future I contemplate at length. The decisions that could have changed the outcome of my life. I reflect on every mistake, every stuff up that I’ve eventually accepted but ultimately regret.

Though Jessica’s article wasn’t written as a challenge for others to come up with their own list, I couldn’t help mentality make my own. I felt her torment, and the impulse to scribe my own was irresistible.

So, as Jessica began, if I had a chance, here’s what I would do differently:

I Would Have Learned About Money

I earned it. I squandered it. I didn’t save a cent.

I always lived from paycheck to paycheck. Upon reflection, I don’t know what I spent my money on. It was on anything wise, like petrol, groceries or education. I spent it on nightclubs and drinks. And I spent it on my friends so they could have a night out too.

I never knew how much money I needed for the future. I always knew I wanted a house and a car, but I never considered setting aside money to each of those goals. Budgeting was fantastical. I believed budgeting was something for grown-ups and people in suits.

I’ve been chasing my monetary negligence ever since. I’m always living from paycheck to paycheck. I’m still waiting for the moment I have enough money for a deposit on a home. I squandered the most important thing I needed: the knowledge that I will need money for the future.

I wouldn’t be wishing for more money now. I would have it.

I Would Have Kept My Mouth Shut

Why did I spend years of my life treating my friends like my private diary? If there was a story to tell about my life, I would go into great lengths with them. And I wouldn’t spare the details.

It felt like everyone knew everything about me but in the worse way.

It’s nice when people know you well enough that they can name your favourite flowers without hesitation. But when they know how many orgasms you had last Saturday night, that’s not a good thing.

Knowledge is power. Or so I thought in my twenties. What people knew about me gave them power over me. When I was least suspecting it, they abused my trust to get what they wanted.

If you want to share thoughts, keep a diary I say to myself now. Or tell a therapist who is legally required to keep your secrets confidential.

If something is worth noting publicly, I assess the sharing consequences first. Not everyone has to know everything about you. You’re allowed mystery and secrets, and you’re allowed to have a life that is yours.

Tell your story when you want to.

I Would Have Built A Career Plan

Sixteen-year-old Ellen’s goal for life: win an Academy Award.

And guess what? I still want to win an Oscar. The only thing that has changed now is that I have a plan to do so. The plan is researched, considered, and I work towards it every day.

But in my twenties, I used to enjoy saying ‘I want to win an Oscar’ rather than doing anything about it. Stating I had this grand goal, that was obscure and impossible, conjured personal power.

As the years passed, I wasted my twenties being planless. I never put ‘pen to paper’ on how I would achieve this. Or how even envisaged the path to my glory,

It would seem that most people in their twenties regret not figuring out their goals. I feel my tragedy is worse, dare I say, because I knew the goal, but I squandered the opportunities to reach it.

I Would Have Taken Care Of My Body

In the year 2013, I became sick. My stomach became a battleground, and my permanent relationship with the toilet became worrisome. I spent my twenty-fifth birthday preparing for a colonoscopy. This lead to the removal of my gall bladder two months later.

I thought this was where my health issues ended. The stitches healed, and I thought I was normal again. But I wasn’t and my stomach issues worsened. Chronic diarrhea and reflux was normal. It was my new day-to-day.

I thought my ‘funny stomach’ was nothing compared to the aches and pains of pre-gall bladder removal. So what was there to worry about?!

I thought my reflux and endless trips to the bathroom were my new normal. But it wasn’t normal, and I was burying my head in the sand. My doctor asked how I lived like this.

My doctor asked why I did nothing about it earlier, too. I couldn’t produce a viable answer. Twenty-something stubbornness was the honest reason, though I never told him that.

But seven years later, I’m still managing the consequences of my lacking organ. I now suffer an irreversible bile malabsorption condition, requiring medication for life.

Be your own doctor. Don’t be the person who accepts feeling ill all the time as normal. Seek second opinions. Use your money on health care, tests and medical advice. We have so much life to live after our twenties, and what we neglect in these years will come back to bite us.

I Would Have Stood Up For Myself

Standing with my then best friend Weston, we were discussing the woman he wanted in his life. He noted a beautifully dressed woman who perched herself at the bar beside us.

She ordered white wine with perfect manners. “She’s a Sunday girl,” Weston quipped. “I would take her home to mother. She would be exactly what the family would approve of.”

As I lit a cigarette and sipped my beer, I declared, “So am I.” Weston shook his head. “No, you’re a Friday girl. You’ll never make it to the polite parent introduction.” I laughed. But I was hurting inside.

If I could turn back in time, I wouldn’t let comments like this pass me by. I would have held the laughter, dispersed my displeasure, and told him to give me the respect I deserved.

And I wouldn’t have believed these types of comments either. From this singular comment, I was convinced for many years I wasn’t good enough to bring home to mother. That I lacked any ladylike sophistication.

I thought I was a girl who wasn’t good enough. I thought if this assumption about me was out there in the world, it must be true.

I learned not to listen to one person’s opinion. Or, in this case, an inaccurate observation based on stereotypes. What someone thinks of you doesn’t mean that’s who you are. And you don’t change your actions to suit them.