Let’s Talk About The Quarter-Life Crisis

Why 75% of 25-to-33-year-olds are asking 'Is this really it?'

Credit: Getty Images.

By Yamily Habib.

At 25, I thought I knew exactly what I wanted out of life. The plan was to earn a Ph.D. and pursue a line of research at a university that would be intrigued by my outlandish ideas about combining art and quantum physics. I was still working six days a week on the night shift at a bar so I could pay my bills and keep studying during the day. The instinct for survival was so overwhelming that I didn’t have time to sit down and ask myself if this was still what I wanted to do. Until my visa expired, and I couldn’t renew it.

My options were very limited, so I decided to move and try to take my research to another university in another country. No one was interested in the ideas that seemed groundbreaking to me at the time. And that’s when, one night with my head in my hands over my books, it hit me: this isn’t what I want to do with my life.

I looked around and realized that all my friends were enjoying life, going from party to party, to concerts I never knew they could afford, traveling everywhere. I had become so fixated on one idea of life that I was letting my actual life pass me by. I slammed the books shut and turned off the computer and my phone. That very night, I realized I had spent my whole life chasing an idea of stability, hoping to one day have a job teaching at a university that would allow me to do what I truly loved in my free time: writing. That was it. That was what truly made me happy.

The next day, I put together a resume and a couple of clips of articles I’d written for a friend’s magazine and started looking for work as a writer. Today, thirteen years later, I’m immensely grateful for all the hardships I had to endure in those early years, writing up to eight articles a day for less than $30 just to survive. I had the opportunity to work with editors from the old school of Latin American journalism; I learned not to bury the lede, to rewrite headlines up to 50 times, to lay out a magazine, and, eventually, to coordinate an editorial team.

That’s why, when I saw Hali’s viral video where she says, “From about 26 to 32, you enter your ‘existential crisis era.’ It’s very important that you ride that crash out,” I couldn’t help but smile and say, “Absolutely.”

What so many of us experience at that age has a name: “quarter-life crisis.” And it’s one of the defining moments in any woman’s life.

It’s a real transition, not a personal failure.

According to a 2017 LinkedIn survey, 75 percent of people aged 25 to 33 have experienced a quarter-life crisis. The average age of onset is 27. And hey, this isn’t a sign that something is wrong with you. It doesn’t imply either that your experience is a collective tantrum. It’s a developmental milestone that happens when your early-life assumptions crash into reality.

A quarter-life crisis typically occurs between the ages of 20 and 30, though it can extend into the early 30s. Specialists describe it as a period of uncertainty marked by anxiety, confusion, and dissatisfaction with various aspects of life. In my experience, it’s a time of constant questioning, whether it’s your career choices, relationships, or even what you’re wearing every single day. And Hali is right. Even if you don’t recognize this as a normal part of growing up, please, listen to it.

The collision between expectation and reality.

Quarter-life crises don’t emerge from nowhere. Gabriel Kwakyi, who runs The Musing Mind, identifies several common triggers. They include misalignment between the life you imagined and the one you’re actually living. An un-integrated loss. Excessive self-expectations tied to age-based timelines (being married, buying a house, earning a certain promotion by a specific birthday). Comparisons to peers who seem to be moving ahead. Life changes that isolate you. Lack of validation from people who matter to you.

For many of us, it’s not a catastrophic event you can pinpoint. Instead, it’s the accumulation of smaller stressors that eventually demands attention, or directly crashes you out.

What it actually feels like.

The onset of a quarter-life crisis can feel like mental vertigo. You’re drawn toward questions about who you really are, stripped of the scripts you’ve been following. MindWell Psychology NYC notes that this period is marked by feelings of being stuck or directionless, even when you’ve “checked the boxes.” You might feel anxious about money, purpose, or the future. You might feel disconnected from yourself. The pressure to figure it all out right now can feel suffocating.

Kwakyi writes that “it is in times of confusion, stress, or pain, when we are knocked off balance and finally take a look around that there arises a golden opportunity for these repressed voices of our inner selves to come to the surface of our consciousness and be seen.” It’s uncomfortable and exhausting, and you experience insomnia, changes in appetite, or persistent anxiety.

Moving forward means honoring what’s shifting inside, and moving past the rubble.

The path through a quarter-life crisis isn’t linear, and it doesn’t require having all the answers. City Scape Counseling recommends starting with small, achievable goals that build momentum. Reflect on your values, relationships, and whether your current work feels purposeful. Set limits on social media, which often amplifies comparison and self-doubt.

Others recommend seeking a connection. Talk to people who’ve been through this. Find a therapist if you need one. Read. Listen to people who’ve survived their own reckoning. Kwakyi writes that “when you find the courage to listen to the voices of your deeper self and the will to evolve your perception or your life situation as a result, you will come through this experience stronger and happier.”

My recommendation? Throw your expectations out the window. As John Lennon used to say, “life is what happens when you are busy making other plans.”

What I learned in those early years of working as a writer for almost nothing was that I wasn’t a failure. I was actually being honest. I learned to stop chasing someone else’s definition of success. To align my actual life with what actually made me feel alive, not in an imagined future, but every single day.

The quarter-life crisis doesn’t last forever. But the person you become on the other side of it does.