Post-Grad Sophomore Year

A few words on post-grad life to commemorate turning 24 on the 24th

I’m 24 today.

I don’t have a master’s degree. I wasn’t in a five year program. The closest to a “gap year” I took was between kindergarten and 1st grade. I’m old for my year, older than almost all of my friends, meaning I was the first to get my license, the first to vote, and the first to legally step into a bar. 

But at 24, I’m no longer ahead of the curve. Some kids graduate and move to a new city at 21. Some have their master’s by 22. Some are 23 and entering their second year into their first full-time job. Some are getting promotions. 

Before you get all high-and-mighty and say “24 is so young!” I promise, I know (And please, be more unoriginal). Feeling behind is a quintessential human experience. You’re terrified your youth clock is running out? Congratulations! You’re officially an adult. 

I’ve spent the last days of 23 job searching, again, and wrapping up a 6-month role I had hoped would lead to a job. My bangs are longer, framing my face. I’m thinking of getting a new tattoo. 

If you asked me two years ago where I thought I would be at this time, I would have said I’d be living in New York with a job I enjoyed and a solid group of girlfriends to go out with it so I wouldn’t care so much that I was single. My whole life, I assumed I’d write a novel by 25, and while I’m aware most people plan life this way only to find they were wrong, I thought I could be an exception. Most of us believe we could be the exception.

If colleges were honest about post-grad life

But so much in life is out of your control. You’re no longer entitled to the milestones. You were handed prom, your first legal drink, and although you or a parent paid for it and you studied for four years, your degree. After graduation, working hard doesn’t necessarily earn you results.

At 23, I flew to Nashville to meet Rainbow Kitten Surprise. I watched St. Vincent DJ at the new Brooklyn Paramount theater. I published a poem. I also applied for maybe 100 jobs and was either rejected or ghosted by 99 of them. I didn’t go out much, something I would have been embarrassed to admit a few months ago. I slept in my childhood bedroom in the Philly suburbs. Whatever path you take after grabbing that diploma, the first year is hard, the way freshman year is hard. 

@bklynparamountWe’re still not over this😭. The incredible @St. Vincent joined us for our preview party. We’re so grateful to her and @Live Nation Concerts for celebrating our new theater. #music #stvincent #dj #djset #brooklyn #brooklynparamount #women #concert #livemusic #musictheatre #musicvenue #musiclover #downtownbrooklyn #toast #dancing #housemusic #fyp #nyc

Tiktok failed to load.

Enable 3rd party cookies or use another browser

I’m entering the “sophomore year” of post-grad, now. Truthfully, I can feel the fog starting to lift. Maybe my frontal lobe is finally developing, or maybe the hard part is over, the panic year after college where you’re staring at a million different paths and don’t know which one to take, because they’re all a little rough, and you have no clue how that person got to the other side before you. But it doesn’t matter if you’re starting post-grad sophomore year at 22 or 23 or 24. It’s all the same.

While I’m not too far from where I was this time a year ago, I’m no longer in a rush. I think that’s why the fog is lifting. I’ll take my time. I’ll wait tables, make playlists, and write as much as I can. I’ll apply for more jobs, read more books, go to more concerts, call my friends who live in different states, and take my parents up on a fancy dinner every now and then. I’ll move out, cut my bangs, take my vitamins, and get a new tattoo. Some things are in my control. That’s where my energy belongs. I’ll get where I want to go, or I’ll get somewhere better.