The Book That Shook My Twenties (In the Best Way)

I was somewhere between “I should have it all figured out by now” and “What if I just move to a farm and raise goats?” when I stumbled on this book. If you're in your twenties (or survived them), you know the feeling: one foot in adulthood, the other in chaos. I thought I had time. Time to pivot. Time to play. Time to get serious... later. Meg Jay, however, had other plans for me.

She opened the book with a sentence that felt like a slap in the face (the loving, therapist-kind):

“Thirty is not the new twenty.”

Ouch. But also... wow. I needed that.

Meg Jay is a clinical psychologist who’s worked with countless twenty somethings, and in this book, she gently (and sometimes firmly) makes the case that what we do in our twenties matters a lot. Our relationships, our careers, our identity... it all starts now, whether we’re paying attention or not.

As I read, it was like someone turned on the lights in a room I didn’t know I was sitting in.

She talked about “identity capital,” the skills, experiences, and relationships we build in our twenties that become the currency of our future selves. And let me tell you, that phrase haunted me. I thought about every impulsive job switch, every “I’ll just wait and see” moment, every time I let fear make my choices for me. This book didn’t shame me — it gave me permission to start.

I underlined things like:

• “The future isn’t written in the stars. It’s written in the choices we make now.”

• “Don’t be defined by what you didn’t know or didn’t do. You are deciding your life right now.”

I mean, COME ON. How dare she.

But the real kicker? It made me feel less alone. Like, maybe the overwhelming mess of your twenties isn’t a personal failure, maybe it’s just a part of becoming. Maybe it’s okay not to know, as long as you keep moving forward with intention.

There’s a chapter where she talks about a client who treated dating like a placeholder. Just someone to hang out with until “real life” began. I winced. Guilty. I had jobs, relationships, even cities I treated like temporary waiting rooms. But what if those waiting rooms become your life?

Meg Jay doesn’t say “figure it all out.” She says: figure something out. Pick a direction. Start walking. Course-correct if you need to. But don’t just stand still hoping clarity will hit you like lightning.

Reading this book felt like a quiet conversation with a wiser version of myself — one who knows that time isn’t something you get back, and that effort, even imperfect effort, adds up.

If you’re in your twenties, or you’re like me, someone who looks back on them with equal parts fondness and cringe, read this book. Highlight the heck out of it. Cry a little. Then get moving.

Your thirties (and beyond) will thank you. ◼️