The Year I Left Home: How My 20s Broke Me, But My 30s Healed Me

When I was 23, I packed my bags, left home, and never looked back.

I wasn’t running away. I was running toward something—a life that was mine, a space where I could finally breathe.

See, I grew up in a home that wasn’t really ours. My father’s job provided free housing, which meant people came and went like it was a public space. Privacy? I didn’t know what that was. By the time I hit my teenage years, I was craving my own space, my own life, my own freedom.

So I left.

And let me tell you, the world outside wasn’t kind.

Adulthood Hit Me Like a Brick

I had no roadmap, no safety net—just the burning desire to prove to myself that I could make it.

I landed my first job, barely making enough to survive, but I didn’t care. I was finally independent. Until three months later, I lost it.

I got scammed.

My employer made so many deductions from my salary that there was barely anything left.

I was broke. Terrified. And for the first time, I questioned everything.

Did I make a mistake? Should I have stayed home? Should I just go back and admit defeat?

But something inside me refused to give in and surrender.

The Hustle of Survival

I had just enough money left for rent and one month’s worth of food. That was it.

I needed a job, fast.

So I did what I had to do.

I lied on my resume.

Not in a way that made me unqualified, but just enough to land an interview. I spent nights practicing, reading everything I could about the job, teaching myself skills I didn’t have, so that when I sat across the interviewer, I didn’t just look like I belonged—I actually did.

And guess what?

I got the job.

For the first time, I felt like I was building something. I wasn’t just surviving—I was thriving.

But the real lessons? Those came in my 30s.

What My 20s Took, My 30s Gave Back

When I turned 30, I looked back at that scared 23-year-old and realized something:

She had no idea that the pain, the failures, and the loneliness were actually shaping her into someone she’d be proud of.

Because here’s what I learned:

💡 You will fail. Hard. But every failure is just proof that you’re trying. And trying is always better than standing still.

💡 Independence is expensive. You pay for it in fear, doubt, and moments of crushing loneliness. But once you earn it? No one can take it away from you.

💡 You don’t have to have it all figured out in your 20s. Society makes you think you should, but here’s the truth—your 30s are where the magic happens.

In my 30s, I finally understood that success isn’t about how quickly you get there. It’s about how you keep going when everything falls apart.

To Every 30-Something Woman Who Feels Lost

Your 30s aren’t about perfection. They’re about becoming.

If you think you should have everything figured out by now—you’re not alone in that.
Your 30s aren’t about reaching perfection. They’re about growth, evolution, and embracing the journey.
So keep moving forward. Keep pushing through. Keep building your vision.

One day, you’ll look back at the person you were—the one who doubted, stumbled, and questioned—and you’ll realize how far you’ve come. You’ll smile because you didn’t give up.

And in the end, that’s what truly matters: the courage to keep going.