ry to imagine the scene, if you will. I am dancing and
chanting while simultaneously having to make very
intense eye contact with six total strangers in a ball-
room high up in the Spanish hills. The act of doing
all three at once is bad enough, and that’s before I’ve
caught sight of my reflection laughing back at me from
the flare of the window. What am I doing here? What
are we, half a dozen seemingly normal young women
from across the UK, doing here? Let me explain.We have gathered in a
four-star hotel in the Spanish
town of Benahavís to spend the
whole next week meditating,
practising yoga and eating
vegan meals, while spiritually
exorcising ourselves. Each one
of us has paid AUD$500** to
be here and dutifully filled in
a very thorough application
form. (‘Are you familiar with
gluten-free plant-based eating?’
No, no I am not, but I can name
every dessert from the Pizza
Hut menu, if you like?)Our reasons for this trip
vary, from the two 29-year-
old women in post-break-up
wilderness to the 30-year-old
managing director who wants
a career change and is feeling
the pressure to get married.
Yet we are all united in one
thing: that we feel lost, cut
adrift from the life path each
of us thought we would travel.
So we’ve gathered here under
the auspices of the retreat’s 29-
year-old founder (bear with me,
I’ll come to her later) to seekspiritual guidance and life-
affirming renewal. We have
come, as the website puts it,
because each of us believes we
are experiencing a ‘quarter-
life-crisis’.
I’m 24 and am no stranger
to a nervous breakdown (or
three). Last year, I became so
anxious that I lost all feeling
in the righthand side of my
body for a week. Doctors told
me that it was stress-induced
migraines or the secondary
effects of anxiety and sent meaway with a fistful of anti-
depressants (I only took them
for a few weeks). Not long after,
I headed home to my parents’
for Easter and cried relentlessly,
refusing to eat or move out of
the spare bedroom for four days
straight. I remember calling
my best friends and saying ‘I
can’t look after myself any-
more, it’s too hard.’
I know exactly what you’re
thinking right about now: this
is life in your twenties. It’s a
decade defined by mess and
malaise. Well... yes and no.
Every single twentysomething
through the course of history
has felt the pressure to succeed,
but my generation seems to be
crumbling under the burden
harder and faster.
Today’s twentysomethings
report peak levels of loneliness
and despondency. One-third
of us between 18-34 are still
living with our mum and dad
(or even gran and grandad).
Latest research shows that theT
104 COSMOPOLITAN SEPTEMBER 2017