Alternatively titled, why working at a summer camp should be considered a “real” (and best) job
Public Service Announcement: I may be biased but if you don’t consider working at a camp a “real” job…
Dear Twenty Somethings,
I rarely admit this but I’m closer to the end of the twenty-something spectrum. I know what you’re thinking- “but Sam, you possess the flawless skin and peppy personality of a twenty-three-year-old.” I know, I’m blessed with youthful appearance (only a curse when people think I’m in high school and call me “sweetie”), but my age is scarily approaching the thirty-something mark (yikes!) At least I’m young at heart, right?
Back in 2015, I had spent the year post teacher’s college struggling to find a job in my field. I worked my little butt off in the retail industry trying to make money but it wasn’t what I wanted to do with my life- my passion was working with kids (aka unemployment city without that retail life). While having drinks before a Jays game (obviously) with a very dear friend, she suggested a temporary solution to help me get experience with children- working at a camp. Being the self-proclaimed old hag old maid maturely aged lady, I worried that I was too old to work at a summer camp. Like many people, I had a limited view of working at a camp, and perhaps even may have considered it not being a “real job”.
Alternatively titled, why the idea of having “no regrets” is stupid
Public Service Announcement: My apologies to those people who claim to live with no regrets for this post.
Regrets are like pimples- we all have had them (if you haven’t, I hate you), we all pretend they don’t exist, but they make us who we are today.
In my humble opinion, cliches such as “never regret anything that once made you smile” and “live with no regrets” are bull. It’s just another thing shoved down the throats of all twenty-somethings that make us feel guilty for regretting things. I consider myself Wonder Woman, here to save us all from this fallacy. So, say it with me now, “it’s okay to have regrets”. For those in the back, I repeat it’s okay to have regrets.
Sometimes, I can be a shitty person. I’ve done things in the past that I regret, mostly because they were shitty or stupid. However, if I pretend that I have no regrets that makes me even shittier. My regrets are acknowledgments that I’m not always the smartest, funniest or nicest person in the room (and boy is that hard to admit because I’m hilarious AND cute AND humble AND the sweetest person that you’ll ever meet obviously). I refuse to live the “no regrets” lifestyle- my regrets and mistakes have led me to the person I am today. I use them as reminders of who I once was, who I want to be, and who I never want to be again. In honour of having regrets, here is a collection of mine.
Alternatively titled, I’m doing okay but pressing Publish is hard
Public Service Announcement: This week’s topic is very dark. It’s not meant to garner sympathy, although it is slightly more for my own catharsis. I’m perfectly fine I just felt a strong need to write this out. It’s also pretty long so read at your own risk!
Dear Twenty Somethings,
I apologize for the second more serious post in a blog that is supposed to make light of the precarious world of being a twenty-something. However, the purpose of The Twenty Something Truth is also to have an honest conversation about the reality of living in our twenties. Unfortunately, grief can be part of that reality.
The farther along in the healing process, the more perspective you gain. As much I appreciate the support, you don’t need to send me concerned messages because I am doing perfectly okay. I’m in a much better place now, and I wrote this piece more in hopes of reaching someone who is going through a tough time or reaching someone who has already been through grief to help them acknowledge that there are others who have experienced the same. Without further ado, here are my truths about grief.
Alternatively titled, is the quality of single men seemingly lacking or is there something wrong with me?
Public Service Announcement- Today’s PSA is mostly directed at my family. If you are, in any way, related to me, please stop reading this post. Go click on this one– you’ll be happier. Ignorance is bliss. You’re welcome!
Dear Twenty Somethings,
In wake of last week’s serious post, I decided to write about something much more hilarious- dating. Recently, I came across the Single Girl, Serenity Prayer (prompting me to start writing this post) and have barely stopped laughing since.
Connie Sun and her comics, particularly The Adventures of Single Girl, speak to me. Maybe I’ve just had a long string of bad dates and bad relationship; maybe I just am “unlucky in love”. Or maybe, just MAYBE dating is the actual worst. Okay, maybe not actually the worst. There’s still natural disasters, the threat of nuclear war, hatred, and Nickleback to contend with, but I digress. Really, the only thing worse than dating and being single (and all the other actual problems in the world) is the contrived things people say to single people, but that’s a post for another day.
Sometimes, when a slight feeling of desperation and loneliness hit, I delve into the world of online dating a.k.a. BIG MISTAKE. There are a ton of websites and apps to help with this, each one as seemingly horrible as the last. Here are just a few of the gem messages I have received (names and pictures hidden to protect the idiots innocents):
Alternatively titled, why is everyone having fun without me?
Public Service Announcement- Writing this post makes me feel raw and slightly uncomfortable, so please be kind.
Dear Twenty Somethings,
Some people are afraid of physical things such as spiders. If it makes you feel better, according to Scientific American we don’t actually eat 8 spiders a year, so take comfort in that at least.
Then there are the emotional scardey-cats like me. As far back as I can remember, my biggest fear has always been the idea of being alone (second of course to clowns because DUH! Have you seen IT?)
Summers are the easiest for me and make it almost impossible to feel alone. I’m blessed with a job that constantly keeps me busy, I am surrounded by friends and co-workers that I basically live with 24/7, and there’s always a child who needs me. I live for these summers, where I can see my greatest friends from my spot in the cabin or path.
The hardest part for me is leaving this comfortable environment at the end of summer. A few days into being back home and I feel desperately alone. The summer camp safety net disappears. My friends and co-workers are far away and those children don’t need me anymore. Once I’m not constantly surrounded by people, self-doubt and fear of being alone sink in. It’s hard to describe the crippling fears and feelings that come to light once I’m back. Alone now, I question everything- who truly cared about me, where do I belong, etc- while I watch everyone move on without me. It’s a brutal feeling and I’m still seeking a way to cope with it. It’s hard for me to be open and raw with people personally so, for now, I’ll do it for the whole internet to see