girlfailure.
Like most of my peers, I spent the better part of my teenage years publishing all of my thoughts on my Instagram digital diary (or as it was better known, @defnotkayasfinsta). From the ages of 15 to 19, my spam account was the fix I needed on any given day. But in the 3.5 years since deactivation, things in my life have been a bit…tumultuous.
I live at home, my room adorned with books I loved in adolescence, craft supplies, concert posters, and a Monster High doll I got a few weeks ago “just because I wanted it.” I work three jobs, all of which contribute to my terrible sleep schedule and prominent eye bags. I’m addicted to my phone and squawk when anyone tries to touch it. Quick to shirk my responsibilities and yet incredibly cognizant of my wrongdoings, I think the word that most accurately describes how I feel is “loser.”
Image Courtesy: Pinterest
Have you ever seen those memes that say something along the lines of, “Life after graduating is just scrolling through stories of people your age getting married or going out of the country or getting their dream job?”
It’s 100% accurate.
Most of the people I went to middle and high school with are all “adult”-adjacent, with their long-term relationships and big-time internships. Their social media profiles are aesthetically pleasing, they have hobbies that take them outdoors and around the world, and they post photo dumps in December summarizing their year with pictures where you can practically smell the fun they had.
Fabrication or truth, it makes me sick with envy.
And yet…
Image Courtesy: Pinterest
As I sit here, watching an old black-and-white movie, eating Goldfish and drinking water out of a Lord of The Rings cup, I realize that it serves me no purpose to be jealous.
Your early 20s are supposed to be a time of understanding. Every argument, every eyeroll, every tear I shed holds just as much weight as every laughing fit, every eyeline wrinkle, and every smile. It’s okay to be sad about people who aren’t in your life anymore because at least they once were. It’s okay to post on your (public!) Instagram story about your love for Shrek 2. It’s okay to get just the right amount of tipsy that you feel the desire to text all of your contacts and tell your mom a secret you never thought you’d share with her. It’s important that we stop being hard on ourselves and focus on who we are to our core. Who cares about living at home? You’re saving money! You reread books from your teenage years? At least you’re not part of the literacy crisis! You checked every Walmart in your area to find the Monster High x Universal Classic Monsters collab and spent $50 on the Frankenstein doll? You love that movie! Your Instagram isn’t “aesthetic?” Says who?
I think that for the longest time, hating myself and curbing my interests felt like the right thing to do because everyone else was doing it too. But in this young adult period of my life, I’d rather cheer people on from the sidelines while figuring my own life out and working towards my goals, whatever they may be. The only thing you need to focus on is keeping yourself happy and healthy. Everything else will fall into place exactly how it should, no spam account rants necessary!
As I wait, though, I’ll end with this: justice for those who feel like girlfailures. May we live long and prosper.
Strike Out,
Kaya O’Rourke
Editor: Isa Pullen
Saint Augustine
Kaya O’Rourke is a writer for Strike Magazine, Saint Augustine. She’s a big fan of film and art houses, curating the perfect Spotify playlist for every occasion, and spending time with her BFFS (her mom, younger brother Cole, and their two cats). When she’s not updating her Letterboxd or working on her screenplay, you can reach her on Instagram at @kayaorourke.
