Katy Scott

Am I having a quarter life crisis?

Growing up, I always heard about the infamous “midlife crisis” – a phrase usually tossed around with a mix of judgment and humor. But only recently have I started hearing about something else: a “quarter life crisis.” It sounds almost ironic at first, like how could you possibly be in crisis when your life is just beginning? And yet, here I am, on the eve of my 25th birthday, wondering if that’s exactly what this is.

I found myself sitting down and writing out my dreams, my goals, and where I want my life to be in the next year. Not five years. Not ten. Just one. Somehow, even that felt overwhelming. The list wasn’t just about ambition; it was about pressure. Pressure to be on the “right” path, to have something to show for myself, to feel certain about decisions that suddenly seem permanent.

Turning 25 feels heavier than I expected. It feels like a quiet checkpoint. Like I’ve been moving forward all this time without really looking up, and now I’ve stopped long enough to ask: Is this where I thought I’d be? And the honest answer is… I don’t know.

There’s this strange narrative that your early twenties are for exploration, making mistakes, trying things out, figuring yourself out. But somewhere along the way, that narrative shifts. Without warning, it becomes about stability. Careers. Relationships. Purpose. And if you haven’t quite figured those things out yet, it can feel like you’re already behind.

Social media doesn’t help. It’s a highlight reel of everyone else’s milestones – new jobs, big moves, engagements, achievements – all neatly packaged into celebratory posts. It creates this illusion that everyone else has it together, while you’re still refreshing your inbox or second guessing your choices. It’s easy to forget that most people are just as unsure, just as scared, just as inbetween as you are.

Maybe that’s what this “quarter life crisis” really is, not a crisis in the dramatic sense, but a moment of awareness. A moment where you realize that life isn’t going to map itself out for you. That there isn’t a clear, universal timeline. That the expectations you’ve internalized might not even be your own.

There’s fear in that, but there’s also something freeing.

Because if there isn’t a single “right” way to do this, then maybe I’m not doing it wrong. Maybe being unsure doesn’t mean I’m failing, it means I’m paying attention. It means I care. It means I’m trying to build a life that actually feels like mine, instead of just following a script.

So, am I having a quarter life crisis?

Maybe. Or maybe I’m just growing up.

Maybe this is what it feels like to stand at the edge of something new, without a clear map, and decide to move forward anyway.

And maybe that’s not a crisis at all. Maybe it’s the beginning of something honest.