THIS IS YOUR (directionless) LIFE.

Words by Michelle Andrews.

UM EXCUSE ME GUYS, has anyone else realised that the year 2014 is already drawing to a close?

I still remember eating the entire tray of refined-sugar-free, gluten-free, vegan cookies I baked on Easter Sunday like it was last week (experimental cooking phase guys, comon now we all go through one). My friends, we are officially in the late stages when the year 12 exams roll around, the Spring races come to town and the Australian Cricket Team reappear in the sports section to remind us firstly how unfortunate Mitchell Johnson’s facial hair is (WHY WOULD YOU RUIN THAT FACE?!), but also that Summer is coming and so is Christmas and the New Year.



Exciting yes, because it means that you now drive to and from work in beautiful sunlight rather than the pitch-black-cold-scary-darkness. It also means your skin will probably stop its 9-month-long tirade on your face and maintain some sense of evenness for the summer months (God bless you, UV). You’ll start scrunching up your face when people ask you what your plans for New Years Eve are. Bikini shots will grace our Instagram feeds once more, as will the lame insta-vid photo-montages that blissfully reminisce the year that was.

Sure, you have to shave your legs more often, but it’s so totally worth it.

Something that inevitably happens at this stage is a self-evaluation of where your life currently stands. We go into each year with grand idyllic plans for our lives: we will be happier, preferably fitter, and definitely richer by the time supermarkets start blaring the Christmas Carols that tempt us to pour Omo into our ears. WELL GUESS WHAT, I heard the Justin Bieber Christmas album playing in Gloria Jeans the other day, so the time for evaluation is NOW, and um, well… my results are terrifying.

As each year passes post-high school, it seems harder and harder to determine how far I have progressed, if at all. Life after school makes about as much sense to me as getting an infinity symbol or feather tattooed on your body – it doesn’t make any sense whatsoever.

I began this year thinking that a trip overseas would provide me with clarity about what I want to do with my life… it didn’t. My trip to Europe provided me with an obsession for travel, heightened my love for partying, and gave me a knack for avoiding reality (it also provided me with an extra 5 kilos that I wasn’t really after, ahhh the sacrifices one makes for pistachio gelato). So I have ‘resettled’ into my normal routine only to find myself feeling more unsettled than ever before. I don’t know where I’m going, and I have no freaking clue what I want in life whatsoever. I saw Europe as being the solution to my directionless-life, wrongly believing that travel would deliver me with some magical/fortune-telling/all-powerful orb of wisdom, and it hasn’t been the case.

Sure, it made me contemplate a life as a Kardashian/Jenner sister – but clear my mind on legitimate life decisions? Not so much.

My general lack of direction continues to contribute to this unhappiness which is hard to unravel and deal with. Sometimes I feel like I am treading water, and the longer I go on just trying to ‘figure it out’ the more exhausted and unhappy I am. It seems that everyone around me is uploading Facebook statuses about graduating from University and beginning their careers. And I’m just sitting here trying to figure out if my greatest achievement this year was:
A) eating that entire tray of cookies at Easter, OR
B) watching an entire season of Mad Men uninterrupted with zero food, drink or toilet breaks

…The jury is still out.

I think when it comes to the social media world, we try our very best to appear like we ‘have it together’ and lead these meaningful lives. We all want to scroll through our timeline/history and see the changes, the developments we have made. What’s scary is that I look back at the past three years since high school and feel breathless at the fact that, scarily, I am no closer to sorting my life out than what I was at the ripe age of 17. I panic that in another three years time, I’ll still be feeling this anxiety that I have no defining passion or ambition, and continue to hover at the base of adult life whilst everyone around me climbs further up the ladder.