This year marks my sixth year out of secondary school education - I was six years in, and now I’m six years out - and I’m still undecided as to whether six years really is a long time.

I never really thought about my twenties when I was a teenager. I had a lot going on that didn’t grant me time or energy to look ahead, and adulthood seemed like a far-off concept I wouldn’t be able to comprehend until I was in it. I was right about that.

I pictured the world as one big secondary school that everyone eventually got used to. Just as getting from classroom to classroom by myself and learning to juggle my timetable in a massive new environment had become easier over time, I imagined my twenties would be an easier adjustment. I was wrong about that.

The world does somewhat resemble a secondary school from here - there are unspoken expectations, social hierarchies, and a different kind of uniform. One that is more of a line of interchanging masks; for work, for friends, for family, for your doctor.

I’m not a stranger to masking socially, but it’s a lot more complex in your twenties given the circumstances.

If secondary school is a heavily manned structure leading to the finish line, your twenties is like an ever-branching system of roads that you mostly build yourself. Except nobody taught you how to build roads, and there is no........

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