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The Broke New World

Haven't you heard?

By LilyRosePublished 2 years ago 3 min read
1
The Broke New World
Photo by Kamen Atanassov on Unsplash

There'll be no rings

No housewarmings

No weddings

Nor crying cots,

Haven't you heard

It's quite absurd,

We can't afford the lot.

It's needless to say that at the time of writing this poem several years ago I was feeling rather disillusioned and sorry for myself.

I had finished University, kick-started my career, and flown the nest, moving in with my then boyfriend. On paper I was firmly on track, yet the bright future that had been dangled in front of us for so many years to lure us through the never ending education system, was nowhere in sight.

At the time, I was acutely aware these were supposed to be the best years of my life - yet three months into our bright future my boyfriend unexpectedly lost his job, whilst I developed a brutal chest infection from the pervasive damp in our teeny one bed flat. Disheartened but not defeated we crawled back to safety of my parents house and started over.

The next few years were spent knuckling down, scrimping and saving, as we were determined to prove ourselves. By 21 my mother was a married homeowner already planning her family. At 25, I felt like I was still treading water.

In the end it was like a scene from a movie. We were on the cusp; deposit nearly saved and an engagement ring hidden in the sock drawer, when we finally took a step back and realised we'd been so focused on this distant future that we were both miserable. We parted ways and with my timeline firmly in tatters, the life I'd planned suddenly seemed further away than ever.

It seems that some of life's lessons you really do have to learn for yourself, and wriggling out from underneath the weight of your own expectations is one of them. Nearing thirty, I still don't own my own home, and my relationship status is probably best described as 'it's complicated'. One day I know I want to have a family. For now though, accepting that what was possible for my mother's generation has not necessarily been possible for mine, has given me a new found sense of freedom.

This weekend, I attended the first in a flurry of weddings. It seems perhaps, that we have at last 'arrived'. As I milled around the reception sipping champagne and giggling with old friends, I realised our conversations had transitioned from second jobs and houseshares to careers, houses and holidays. We are no longer just surviving. We are thriving. We have made it. And our success may look different to that of our parents, but it is ours nonetheless.

It strikes me now that with another cost of living crisis on its way, that things are about to get a lot harder. Some of us will have to loosen our grip on those hard fought comforts we have painstakingly procured. But somehow it is not us that I pity. After all, has this up hill battle not taught us that our happiness is based on so much more than our success. Are we not still the lucky ones?

The distinct pang of sadness I feel is instead for next lot of bright eyed, hopeful early twenty-somethings, that are yet to feel the same harsh slap of reality.

I hope that they too will learn will find a beauty in the struggle they face. I hope that they will learn to weed out the expectations of others that have tangled with their own desires and their sense of self. Maybe, just maybe, they will emerge strong and triumphant, and ready to carve their own path in this crazy world of ours.

Because at the end of the day, that's life right?

fact or fiction
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About the Creator

LilyRose

Corporate cog by day, poet by night. Writing is my happy place. Comments, follows and critiques are always welcome!

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