Currently, I find myself at a stage where following the question asked politely in every conversation of whether I’m keeping well, safe and healthy, I can fortunately tick all three boxes without having to exercise much thought which I’m tremendously thankful for. I am alive and chugging along fine, all things considered, as we navigate through this weird time. But I find myself wanting to add a fourth point to this list of everyone's automatic greeting tone: well, safe, healthy and ‘clueless’. I’ve firmly established myself as a forerunner here, which I originally put down to the pandemic and the change it’s enforced on me for the last year, but on reflection I see that it’s merely heightened something that already existed. The feeling of being totally clueless, regardless of what I or someone else may be perceived to be doing, is pretty normal (albeit scary for any fellow overthinkers).
For as long as I’ve been brainstorming this blog, I had the idea for an article titled: ‘A quarter of a century years old and clueless’. But, apart from the fact that I’m not quite 25 yet, I’ve come round to realising that the feeling of not knowing what the heck you’re doing is universal; it doesn’t discriminate by age. I’ve been desperately waiting for that day where all the grown-up things I’m inevitably going to have to do actually happen - because when they do, I’ll be at the age where everything has clicked into place and it’s easy. I will have gone through the years of training, passed the final exams and I’ll be ready to attack it head on. Right?
As a helpless perfectionist, it pained me to realise that there are no guidelines to follow as new chapters of my life are entered, but now I’m totally comfortable with the reality (or at least, sitting at a definitive 96% comfort rating). There is no training, and things don’t always go as the totally fictional mock exams we undertake internally seem to suggest. Things can happen quickly and then everything that was mapped out so perfectly changes.
The day where every piece of my puzzle fits together to officially qualify me for the next level hasn't yet arrived, but somehow I find myself in the midst of perceivably grown-up things that I’d continued to convince myself were years away and I have no idea how to manage. But to my surprise; it’s sort of just happening. And it’s actually going OK. I might not feel in control of everything (definitely don’t), but still, I’m here. We have a brilliant ability to often handle things better than we’d ever imagined we could when given no choice but to do just that.
There are of course days when the lack of ability to handle a situation accumulates and ultimately results in me channeling Ross’ strategy of drinking an obscene amount of margaritas (wine in my case), and cooking fajitas for everyone to show just how fine I really am...but, that’s life. We’ve all so often not got a clue what to do.
Come to think of it, we’re obsessed with referencing certain things as ‘adult’ or ‘grown-up’, and then congratulating someone when they do something that fits this category. They are officially no longer clueless about something because they've reached a particular milestone. I’ve told friends countless times how mad it is to be doing something ‘SOOOO adult’, when really, we’re all just trying to do things at our own pace whilst of course subconsciously worrying that we’re behind others. I recently read somewhere that adults are only children pretending to be grown-ups, and it really struck a chord with me. That is absolutely what I am, and always will be.
We certainly do mature as we get older, often there’s no alternative choice, but there’s not a button we all press to activate ‘adult mode’ at some point. One half of me has still got a reminder from my sister written down to watch the Tracy Beaker reboot series launched recently and the other half has a reminder to check that my credit card application is all OK because I need a good credit rating for the future(?) It’s a strange place to be, but surely it’s where so many find themselves regardless of age, nestled along with that worry of others being utterly clued up in comparison.
There will always be people that seem to be so much further ahead than can be fathomed for someone else’s circumstances, but I feel certain that they’d claim to be 100% blagging it too, even though we so strongly believe from looking in on their life that they’re not. The bizarre thing I’m trying to come to terms with is that there may actually be people that feel this way about me...like I’ve got everything under control and am on track with my years...and they would probably experience the same crazy realisation if they knew I feel that way about them too.
I’ve fallen victim to comparing myself to others far too frequently. I will even go into someone’s house (back when that was a way of life), or view someone’s photo on social media to only feel rubbish because they have a superior toaster to our trusty Asda one that’s got us through for over two years now. It still functions in the same way and makes a simple crumpet as delicious as ever, but for some reason I feel like someone with a Smeg toaster (and god forbid, the matching kettle), has got their life way more intact than me.
It’s far too easy to feel inadequate from all the external sources around us that constantly imply so many people of a similar age are doing so much more. But this time at home has made me sit back and really contemplate this. Sure, there are people I look up to and massively respect, but I’m living in my own little bubble and doing it my way. That person with 1.3 million Instagram followers who’s earning a salary that I don’t quite know, but estimate to be in the region of ‘Oh my god I would be able to book that trip I've had bookmarked for ages if I was them’ isn’t wired any differently. Sure, they’ve pursued different paths and come from a different background, but I bet they’ve had what feels like 1.3 million moments of complete guesswork to match the 1.3 million people that now have to know what they’re up to.
Personally, I’m trying to alleviate any pressure about when I’ll get married and *gulp* have children. Everything will be done at my own (OK, and Jordan’s) pace. Back in school, I genuinely thought that when I was the magic age of 24 I’d be married and thinking about when I was going to have my first child with my husband who, like me, would have a great career and we’d be firmly on the track to success. For so long, I’d looked at people in their twenties starting families and felt so in-awe of them; but I’m now realising that they didn’t have a set of clues given to them behind my back that makes them more prepared than me. We all just get on with our own situations one way or another.
Oh and major reality check: at 24, I still feel that I have so much to do and learn and I am absolutely NOT ready to be having a baby anytime soon. And in all honesty, I’m in no rush to get married despite what people may think.
We’ve reached a weird point where the majority of teens through to middle-aged people are somehow more experienced at actively pursuing an ordinary day in the so-called Information Age than someone who’s lived on the planet for longer. We’re advancing so much and it can be hard to keep up. Who’s more ‘adult’ out of a 30 year-old and a 75 year-old based on this? If we followed what so many claim, it would arguably be the 30 year-old because they are in their prime young adult years where everything is taking shape whilst the 75 year-old has earnt their well-deserved rest from adulting for so long. But I’d argue neither; surely, deep down they feel equally clueless for different reasons and could probably learn a lot from one another.
With the continued pressure the pandemic is placing on our lives, we’ve all encountered endless versions of a lockdown, tier systems, socially distanced glares and been given a heap of time to reflect. The best thing that happened to me in this time was becoming more comfortable with the idea that I’ll never fully know what I’m doing, that’s just how it is. Even though the current scenario we find ourselves in seems alien and ‘not normal’, we’re still the same normal people, just in a different context – getting through things one (un)productive, surely shorter than 12 hours, day at a time.
To feel clueless is normal and as it causes setbacks of varying capacities, which it inevitably will, it's fine to feel concerned. It will always be OK to feel this way. Our nearest and dearest will undoubtedly reassure us that everything is going to work out, because really, it will one way or another. Even when people are at the highest point of their life, they may be feeling just as clueless as everyone looking up to them is.
I for one am a professional at winging it through things, regardless of how much I prepare (which trust me, can be a lot), there seems to always be that element of faking it when it eventually happens. When on the phone having a challenging conversation, I always try to remember that the person on the other end of the line is simply a human like me with all the side effects that come with that; winging their way through the call. We all are, and the sooner we realise that this is exactly how everyone progresses through this normal life, the better.
I’ve decided that exercising the ability to quite literally do what I want, looking back in wonder at how the heck I made certain achievements actually come to fruition, is a fact of life that never changes.
