“When I do get free time, I spend a lot of it at home with my family and my close friends, and I think that’s what keeps me happy, healthy, grounded, and totally in check.”
– Leighton Meester, American actress and singer
IT is often said that your twenties are a time to discover who you are, but what is less spoken about is how disorienting that journey can be, especially when society constantly imposes its definition of who you should become.
We are encouraged to dream big, to move fast, to be seen and heard, to chase promotions, to travel the world, and to accumulate milestones that are easy to quantify and display.
In the backdrop of curated social media feeds, it feels as though everyone else is sprinting ahead in a silent race – and if you are not keeping pace, you are somehow behind.
But from where I stand in my late twenties, I understand that “making it” is not always about chasing the glitter.
More often, it is about setting your own pace, holding on to the values that shaped you, and learning to remain ambitious without losing sight of your roots.
Growing up in Sarawak, we are frequently reminded that bigger and brighter opportunities lie beyond our borders. And in many ways, that is true.
Opportunities in metropolitan cities, top global universities, or viral digital platforms can be life-changing.
It is easy to feel stagnant in comparison when we see peers thriving in these spaces.
Yet, there is something profoundly grounding about growing while staying connected to your origins.
For me, that connection is woven into the everyday.
It is the way my mother gently reminds me to be courteous, even on the most exhausting days.
It is in the way I navigate between Sarawak Malay, English, and Mandarin – how the phrase “aok bah” can hold a world of comfort and understanding.
These subtle cultural anchors keep me rooted, especially in a world that values speed and visibility over substance.
In an era dominated by personal branding, hustle culture, and the relentless pursuit of online validation, staying true to where you come from can feel like swimming against the tide.
But over time, I have realised that our roots are not burdens – they are anchors.
And anchors provide stability, especially when everything else feels uncertain.
There have been moments when I questioned if I was doing enough.
I wondered if remaining in Sarawak, reporting on local stories, and growing within my community was the right path.
I have turned down opportunities that would have taken me far from home, unsure if I was making a mistake.
Yet each time doubt crept in, something reaffirmed my purpose.
It could be a conversation with a Mulu cave warden who dedicated decades to protecting our forests.
Or a message from a listener who said an episode of our podcast made them feel truly seen.
These are not headline-grabbing moments – they do not go viral, but they carry weight.
They remind me that success does not have to involve leaving everything behind – it can also mean choosing to build something meaningful right where you are.
The pressure to have it all figured out in your twenties is undeniably real.
Many of us carry an unspoken checklist: a degree, a stable job, savings, a partner, a thriving side hustle, social fulfilment, and personal growth.
And when one box remains unticked, we are quick to feel inadequate.
But what if we discarded that checklist altogether?
What if “making it” was not a fixed destination, but an ongoing, evolving journey?
What if staying true to your hometown, your family, your culture – or even just your values – was a fundamental part of achieving success?
There is a quiet strength in choosing to bloom where you are planted.
In remembering the names of your grandparents’ kampungs, in bringing traditional values into contemporary spaces and in advocating for your community even when silence would be easier.
We may not always be in the spotlight, but we build bridges.
We preserve stories. We uplift the people and places that shaped us.
And we show up – for ourselves, and for those who made us who we are.
To those navigating their twenties and feeling uncertain or overwhelmed: you are not alone, and you are not behind.
Life is not a race and success looks different for everyone.
Perhaps you are figuring things out at your own pace.
Perhaps your path includes unexpected detours.
Perhaps your victories are quiet, personal, and not always recognised.
But if you are moving forward with purpose, acting with kindness, honouring your background, and crafting a life that reflects your values – then you are making it.
It may not look like the filtered perfection of social media, but it is real and matters.
Here’s to those who remain grounded.
To the ones redefining success in ways that are authentic and meaningful.
You are not falling behind – you are creating something lasting.
And that, in itself, is enough.
The views expressed here are those of the writer and do not necessarily represent the views of Sarawak Tribune. The writer can be reached at sarahhafizahchandra@gmail.com.
