Delayed Teenage Crisis: What Moving Away From Home at 26 Taught Me

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Delayed Teenage Crisis: What Moving Away From Home at 26 Taught Me

Illustration: Sushant Ahire

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t was only 12 short months ago that I felt like a shiny new penny, all of 25 years of age. Time did its thing, and now, at 26, I’m only going to be considered young if I were to drop dead or become the CEO of a company that makes Uber look like Uday Chopra’s career. It’s at this ripe old age, that I find myself leaving home for the first time, to go to university in faraway Ireland. I’m at a juncture in my life where I’m forced to confront the fact that I’m basically a non-adult who has made his bed seven times in his entire life, who is going to a country no one I know of has visited for more than four days.

While my friends uprooted their lives in this manner at 18, or even as late as 22 or 23, my quarter-life crisis move makes me feel like a cross between two sorts of people: a child that’s practising cutting vegetables, and an entry-level yuppie sage.

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