My 20s were awful, but my 30s have been amazing. The only thing that changed in between the two decades was that I adjusted to what the world was actually like, rather than trying to make it fit me. Maybe this is typically middle-aged talk (I'm 37 now) but I want to go back in time and slap my younger self. Maybe if you read this you'll want to slap me too, but hopefully you'll see my life as a reasonable case study in how things can get hard, then better, then harder, then great - if you work at it.
To give that a bit more detail: I left university without a degree, after my second year. I was studying Literature, and I decided I didn't want to be an English professor. I also thought that I could be a successful writer whether I finished my degree or not. On reflection, this was a patently terrible choice; had I just toughed out another twelve months, I'd have had a qualification to show for my efforts, rather than nothing.
I lucked onto an opportunity after that, but it was one that required a LOT of effort on my part. I got into an internship for a media production company (they produced TV ads and also museum / heritage audiovisual stuff) that was unpaid, but had the potential for payment eventually. I was living alone in Manchester, UK, which is a pretty sizeable city, and although my rent wasn't horrendous, my bills etc. were significant for a dropout. So I rented out my spare room to a series of friends so I could cover the bills, and I worked two full days every weekend (and some evenings) as an assistant manager at a coffee chain. I was working about ten hours a day, unpaid, at the film company Monday to Friday, then ten hours Saturday and Sunday at the coffee shop. I didn't do much else.
That might sound like one of those "we used to have to walk uphill both ways" stories, but I'm putting it here as an example of the kind of rubbish you might have to wade through until things get better. That was a tough time.
And things did get better - for a while. The film company gave me a research / writing job after a year of making a nuisance of myself, and while it didn't pay a lot (about ÂŁ19k, I think) it did cover all my expenses. I kept the coffee shop job for a while, and managed to save up some more money through that and the room rent I was getting from my friend. After a year or so, I was living on my own again (the last friend in the series had moved out) and still coming out on top, money wise, every month.
Then the media job started getting worse. The company was being squeezed, financially, and the directors had already remortgaged their houses to keep it afloat. A lot of the more senior people were also being made freelance contractors, and having their hours reduced. They kept me on, but my duties spiralled out of control while my pay stayed static; I was sleeping in the office some nights, and I had to give up the coffee shop job because I couldn't make the hours they needed.
After about nine months of that, I explained to the owners that I needed a raise or I needed to find something else. They couldn't muster the raise, so I left.
So there I am, aged maybe 24. I've lost two jobs, I'm back to paying for a city apartment all by myself, and nobody in the field I'm now experienced in is hiring anyone junior - whether they're fresh out of university, or they have experience. Things were looking pretty grim, and I considered moving out of the city and back in with my mum.
Instead, I signed up with a temp agency and started doing generic office work - as much as I could get. My brother had also just finished university in another city, so he relocated to come and live with me and we shared bills. Eventually, one of my temp positions turned into a full-time offer, working for local government in civil contingencies. I spent two years there, and over that time they recognised my writing skills and moved me over to assist a secret judicial commission on research and report writing. Afterwards, my brother was doing temp work for another government agency, and he suggested they hire me to work with a panel of different judges, which I did.
Now, this was a public sector job, which meant reasonable pay and very good hours. People worked 9-5 religiously, and overtime was never expected. I always managed to get my work done during the days, but I also found myself with a lot of what I considered 'free time' afterwards, because I was accustomed to working evenings and weekends from my previous jobs. So I started writing freelance for magazines. I ended up building a healthy side gig, specialising in consumer technology and celebrity interviews, and I eventually saved up enough to move out of the city and into a suburb with my then-girlfriend, now wife.
Things snowballed from there. I was given my own men's advice / lifestyle column, and I met a lot of luxury and technology businesses (the area I'd moved to was full of well-off businesspeople and affluent consumers) who would regularly ask me to write for them. My wife's father also wanted to send writing and research / analysis work my way. So after maybe two years (I'm now about 29) I quit the daytime job and set up my own business. I worked from the kitchen table for about three years, then we moved to the other side of the city and into a bigger house, where I have my own office.
That's a long-ass post, but here's the kicker: I went from earning basically nothing out of university, working for free, to earning about ÂŁ65k (roughly $81k USD) today. Am I rich? No. Do I make enough to support my wife, who stays home with the kids full-time, and also to put some money aside? Yes. And while I took a really circuitous route to get where I am today, I can honestly say that a lot of the progress just came from experience and age. I was lucky a few times, but not extraordinarily so, I don't think. I just got older, practiced a trade whenever I could, and things improved.
I'm sure you can do the same - even if there'll be stages along the way where you feel like things will never get any better.