Almost-25 and Chronically Unsure

Caught Between Becoming and Belonging

In just a few weeks, I’ll be turning 25 — and honestly, it feels a little daunting. As a woman, there’s this quiet but persistent pressure to have life figured out by now: career, relationships, purpose. It’s as if 25 is some kind of checkpoint where certainty is expected — from the world, yes, but also from myself.

I catch myself wondering what I want my life to look like in five, ten years. And then there’s that question — do I want kids? Because if I do, apparently, I need to have my entire life sorted out by, like, next Tuesday. The biological clock doesn’t care about my five-year plan, and let’s be honest, I’m not exactly rolling in “egg-freezing money", especially after my best friend broke my delusional bubble and told me it costs $20,000. So, unless my ovaries are accepting payment plans or loyalty points, we’re winging it. Anyway... let's forget about these intrusive thoughts for a moment and come back to the actual dilemma I'm going through that's impacting the present decision-making.

One of the hardest questions I keep coming back to is: Where do I actually want to live? As an Indian citizen with permanent residency in Canada, I’m basically on life’s version of a roundabout — just going in circles with no clear exit in sight. I grew up in India, daydreaming about studying abroad and living this glamorous, independent life. Cut to a few years later: I’m in Canada, still taking 5–7 business days to fold my laundry, eating “girl dinners,” and calling it living on my own terms. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t quite as glamorous as my 17-year-old self-imagined. And yet, there was something beautifully freeing about it — the messy, magical chaos of early adulthood that quietly shaped who I am. I met some of the most important people in my life here. So, no matter how much I complain, or how far it feels from home, Canada will always hold a piece of my heart. But lately, it’s started to feel… temporary. Uncertain. And yes, sometimes, undeniably lonely. Now, with pieces of my life scattered across two continents, it often feels like I’m living a double life — constantly choosing, constantly missing something. The hardest part? Accepting that I can’t have the best of both worlds — no matter how vividly I imagine my personal version of utopia.

Overall, while no decisions have been made — and the heart and mind are still doing their usual tug-of-war — one thing remains clear: I deeply value peace, stability, and the feeling of being rooted somewhere. But trying to find that sense of home between two very different countries, cultures, and versions of myself makes the search far from simple.

Maybe the answer won’t come all at once. Maybe it’s not about choosing one place over another, but about creating a life that honors both — even if it means carrying a little homesickness wherever I go. For now, I’m learning to sit with the uncertainty, to be okay with not having it all figured out by 25. After all, life isn’t always about having the perfect plan — sometimes, it’s just about showing up, listening to what feels right, and trusting that clarity will come in its own time. And if not, there’s always a third country... preferably one with good food, my entire support system, and no safety issues.