Mid-Twenties but Still Have No Clue What I’m Doing

You know how growing up you always hear things like “Start saving for retirement at 25” or “I invested at 25 and now I’m a millionaire”?

I fully believed that when I turned 25, a switch would flip. A magical adult download would install. Suddenly I’d understand investing, enjoy meal prepping, and stop panicking every time my bank app sent me a notification.

Instead, my brain said: What if we hyperfixate on this one purchase for three weeks and then never use it?

I also had a very serious life timeline. Married by 24. First kid by 26. A house by 27. Maybe a cute neutral couch that costs more than my car.

Reality check: I’m in my mid-twenties, not married, not in a relationship, and my long-term financial strategy is “move money around and hope it feels productive.”

Growing up was sold to us like The Game of Life. You go to school, get a job, and everything just… works. What they don’t include is burnout. Or ADHD. Or the part where your brain refuses to do things in a logical order unless there’s a deadline, panic, or snack involved.

They also don’t include grief.

Losing a parent isn’t a side quest , it’s a full system update no one warned you about. Suddenly you’re trying to process loss while also being expected to act like a functioning adult. Pay bills. Answer emails. Decide what’s for dinner. Grief plus capitalism is a truly unhinged combo.

Somewhere between trying to be “responsible” and just trying to survive, I lost myself. The version of me that dreamed without turning everything into a productivity metric. The version of me that didn’t feel behind because I hadn’t “maxed out” a retirement account I barely understand.

And don’t get me wrong , I want to be good with money. I listen to podcasts. I read the posts. I nod along like, Yes, compound interest, while simultaneously wondering why my brain treats budgeting like a personal attack.

With ADHD, money is especially funny. Not funny. More like:

• Forgetting a bill exists until it becomes emotionally charged
  
  

• Creating a budget and immediately ignoring it
  
  

• Feeling rich after one good paycheck and broke after buying groceries
  
  

Everyone else seems so confident, like they have spreadsheets and five-year plans. Meanwhile I’m over here using vibes, Google, and mild panic to make life decisions.

But here’s the thing: not having a clue doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re human. It means you’re navigating adulthood with a brain that works differently, in a world that expects linear progress and zero burnout.

I may not have a house, a partner, or a perfectly optimized investment portfolio. But I do have self-awareness, resilience, and the ability to laugh at the fact that I once thought adulthood would magically make sense.

Turns out, growing up isn’t about having all the answers.

It’s about learning to live with ADHD, burnout, grief, and a slightly chaotic relationship with money,  and still showing up anyway.

And honestly? That counts for a lot.

Always Stay Warped and Twisted As Ever,

Eve