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This one’s for Jazmin—“In every épreuve, there is a gift.”

They don’t tell you this in school, but your twenties aren’t just a decade—they’re a psychological boot camp where the instructor is life itself. No syllabus, no safety net, just you, your ambitions, and a heap of unmet expectations. You’re thrown into the world with a head full of dreams, a wallet full of receipts, and vague advice like, “Follow your passion.” But what nobody mentions is how to follow your passion when rent is due, your job feels soul-crushing, and you’re having a midlife crisis 20 years too early.

The life crisis doesn’t have a set arrival date—it’s more of a sneaky intruder. One minute, you’re optimistic, Pinterest-boarding your future house with the open kitchen concept; the next, you’re questioning your entire existence because your best friend just got promoted, your ex is engaged, and your savings account looks like it’s in witness protection. If this sounds familiar, welcome to the club. We meet every Friday, right after crying into our cocktails.

It’s okay to feel like your life’s gone rogue. In fact, that’s the point. My mom, the unofficial queen of philosophical one-liners, always says, “In every épreuve, there is a gift.” (For those of you without a French mother, an épreuve is a trial or test, but it sounds fancier in French.) The gift doesn’t come immediately—oh no, that would be too easy. You usually have to slog through doubt, discomfort, and maybe a quarter-life breakdown before the universe hands you that metaphorical present. And the worst part? You don’t just get to wait for it; you have to work for it.

But how, you ask, do you actually navigate this crisis? First, take a deep breath. Let’s talk strategy.

Embrace the chaos

Your life isn’t supposed to look perfect right now. Think of it as a messy middle—the montage in every rom-com where the heroine’s lipstick is smudged, her hair’s a disaster, but you know she’s on the verge of figuring it out. Laugh at the chaos. Cry if you need to. Then remind yourself: it’s temporary.

Keep moving forward

When you feel stuck, move your body. I mean it—take a walk, go for a run, try a dance class, or punch the air at a kickboxing studio. Physical movement creates emotional momentum. It’s like hitting “refresh” on your brain.

Start ridiculously small

Have a huge dream but no idea where to start? Break it down. Want to write a novel? Start with one sentence. Need a new career? Update your résumé. Overwhelmed by laundry? Just fold the socks. Tiny steps build the staircase to success.

Phone a friend (or your mom)

Moms are magical creatures, even when they drive us crazy. Mine has a way of turning my breakdowns into pep talks and reminding me that crying over a bad date isn’t tragic—it’s just another chapter. If your mom’s not the go-to, lean on someone else who gets you. Sometimes, hearing “You’re not crazy” is all the therapy you need.

Celebrate every win

No matter how small. Paid your bills on time? Celebrate. Managed to cook instead of ordering takeout? Gold star. Celebrating these tiny victories reminds you that you’re capable, even when life feels overwhelming.

Be kind to yourself

Would you berate your best friend for not having their dream job at 25? No? Then stop doing it to yourself. Speak to yourself with the same love and patience you’d offer someone you care about.

The life crisis is actually a good thing. It’s life’s way of nudging you—okay, shoving you—toward the person you’re meant to become. Without the sleepless nights, the tears, and the “what am I even doing with my life?” moments, you’d never grow. Think of it as a plot twist, not a dead end. It might take months or even years to unwrap, but it will come. Maybe the gift is resilience. Maybe it’s clarity. Maybe it’s realizing that your dream job, dream partner, or dream life isn’t what you thought you wanted but something even better.

This crisis? It’s not the end of your story. It’s the beginning of your glow-up montage. And trust me, the gift waiting for you at the end? Worth every tear-streaked mascara moment.

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