30#

I’m 30 now. It’s frightening—not because I feel old but because I feel lost. By this age, I imagined I’d have a clear direction, a destination to strive for, and the first steps already mapped out. I don’t need to know every twist and turn of the journey; I just want to know I’m moving toward something that matters.

Where did the boy with all those dreams go? The one who wanted to be a pilot, then a scientist, an inventor, a game developer? Am I maturing, or am I settling? Now, I write backend code for a product I’m not even sure deserves to exist. Is this growing up, or is it a slow compromise?

I don’t want to settle. I don’t want to abandon my ambitions. I still want to be great. But the terrifying thought is: as I chase these ideals, is life quietly slipping away? What if I pursue dreams so intently that I forget to live in the real world?

What haunts me most is how quickly time is passing. Just yesterday, I was 25. Will 40 sneak up on me the same way? If I had a child today, they’d be 10 when I’m 40. That feels so late. If it takes a decade to build a successful company, I should have started already. If I’m meant to leave a big impact on the world, shouldn’t I be well on my way by now?

Directionless#

I’m in a place where everything feels confusing. Every idea sounds promising, but I can’t commit to any of them. I’m torn about my relationship: Do I want to be a family man, embracing that responsibility, or do I crave freedom from other people’s expectations and dreams? But freedom for what? To live irresponsibly? That doesn’t sound appealing either.

Should I just focus on my job and try to become the best at what I do? But why? I don’t enjoy my work, and I’m not close to my colleagues. I have no real passion for the product I’m building. I’m only here for the paycheck. Maybe I could learn to care, or maybe it’s time to find something that genuinely excites me.

Then there’s the idea of immigrating. It’s been consuming my thoughts. Moving to a place like the US, Canada, or Germany for a fresh start, for more opportunities, seems so tempting. But maybe the real issue isn’t where I am. Maybe it’s that I lack clarity. Perhaps I need to stay put, focus, and use my resources wisely to succeed where I am.

When I talk about opportunities, what do I even mean? I want to be wealthy, to enjoy the luxuries of life—that’s certain. But beyond that, what do I truly want to achieve? I have vague ideas about making an impact, but in what way? How do I want to leave my mark on the world?

Maybe the problem is that I’m starved for inspiration. I should read more, learn more. Perhaps better input would lead to better output.

Or maybe this feeling of being lost is part of life. There might not be a perfect way to choose a direction. Maybe it’s about picking something that feels even vaguely meaningful and throwing myself into it. Silencing the doubts and uncertainties. Maybe that’s what it means to be brave, to grow up. Maybe I’m not really directionless—maybe I’m just afraid.

Demons#

And then there are my demons. Sex addiction, food addiction, weight struggles, laziness. They weigh me down, dragging me into cycles I can’t seem to break. They cloud my mind, making clarity feel impossible. I tell myself I need to simplify my life, to fortify my resolve. Maybe then I’d finally see a path forward.

Sometimes, I think the only way out is to make drastic changes. To cut people out, hurt feelings, break promises—whatever it takes. It sounds harsh, but maybe a shock to the system is what I need. An abrupt, decisive end to these cycles. To damn everyone else and just do what’s necessary.

But here I am, feeling like a coward. I know these habits are hurting me, holding me back. I know how much better my life could be if I had the strength to let go. Yet, I can’t seem to summon the bravery to take that final, necessary step.

Expectations#

Then there are the expectations I constantly juggle. My mother sees me as the successful, good-hearted son—the innocent do-gooder she raised. My girlfriend sees me as the romantic, supportive partner who will always have her back. My friends view me as the intellectual, destined for something extraordinary.

But maybe these expectations are the result of my own lack of authenticity. I’ve projected a version of myself that doesn’t feel true anymore. I didn’t mean to; once, that image was real. But I’ve changed, and now I’m trapped by the shadow of who I used to be. I’m left trying to live up to a past version of myself that I can’t seem to escape.

Perspective#

But maybe I’m being incredibly pessimistic. Perhaps I need to be more grateful, to count my blessings, to find happiness in the present and simply enjoy life. Yet it’s hard to feel grateful when I’m constantly aware that I’m not living up to my full potential. I feel like I’m letting myself down, watching my life drift off course.

Still, perhaps gratitude is the first step. Recognizing that things aren’t as dire as they feel. Reminding myself that the future may not be as bleak as I make it out to be.

Maybe, just maybe, gratitude could be the key. It might give me the courage to move forward with purpose, to act swiftly and decisively. To finally take control.