At twenty, the world felt both infinite and fragile—full of possibilities yet weighed down by uncertainty. Every decision seemed monumental, every friendship irreplaceable, and every night stretched endlessly into tomorrow.
I chased dreams without knowing their shape, spoke boldly without fully understanding my voice, and loved deeply without grasping the cost. It was a time of becoming—of shedding childhood skins and stumbling toward something resembling adulthood.
Looking back, I don’t regret the missteps. They taught me resilience. The late-night conversations, the failed exams, the heartbreaks, the spontaneous road trips—they all stitched together the fabric of who I am today.
Twenty wasn’t perfect, but it was honest. And perhaps that’s what matters most.