When I was younger, the world felt enormous, distant, glittering, and separated by borders that existed as much in my imagination as they did on any map. Back then, traveling abroad or studying in another country felt like an impossible dream, the kind reserved for someone luckier, richer, or braver.
Ayana Birbayeva.
But as I grew older, I realized something extraordinary: those borders were never as solid as we thought. The more I explored, the more I understood that opportunity doesn’t wait for permission, it just unfolds for those who dare to look beyond the frame.
Once I did so, I realized that cities that once lived as postcards on my teenage vision board had become the views from my windows that turned into real memories.
The moment it clicked – in Rome
It happened to me in Rome. I was sipping espresso at a small café – or a bar, as Italians call it – near Piazza di Trevi when an older Italian woman sat nearby, elegant heels, perfect lipstick, a microbag that matched the sparkle in her eyes. She told me she was celebrating her 70th birthday, finally making her dream come true – to see Rome for the first time.
Her story touched me deeply. She had waited her entire life for this moment. As she spoke, I couldn’t help but feel a quiet shiver. I thought about how lucky I was, not because I was younger or more fortunate, but because I lived in a time when dreams didn’t have to wait a lifetime.
For her, Rome was a destination. For me, it was a weekend. And in that contrast, I felt a quiet gratitude for the freedom to shape my own life without waiting for the right moment to begin.
That conversation stayed with me long after I left the café. Walking through the narrow streets, I kept thinking about how differently we move through the world today, how easily we turn plans into action and ideas into experiences.
Our generation without walls
That evening in Rome made me realize something simple: our generation just moves differently. We have grown up connected to the internet, to the world, to each other. We speak languages not just as tools of communication, but as bridges.
We don’t see other countries as faraway lands; we see them as possible next steps. There is a kind of quiet revolution in this as a shift from fear to freedom. We don’t chase the world the way past generations did. We chase expansion of our mind, heart, and experience.
The life of no limits
I have met people who build small businesses while studying abroad, who travel while saving money, who create careers that fit their lives instead of shaping their lives to fit careers while learning the fifth language.
Somewhere between all the airports, new apartments, and spontaneous friendships, I realized how much our generation has changed the meaning of what it means to live. We no longer chase stability as an end goal through the socially planned list of things people decided we have to pass through before to allow ourselves to live.
We study, work remotely, travel, and build, often all at once.
Back then I realized that the old idea of stability no longer defines us. What once was called restlessness is now resilience.
The beauty of possibility
Maybe that is what fascinates me most about my generation: how naturally we treat possibility. It makes me realize our drive is not just about privilege or curiosity, it is about hunger, maybe because we come from a place where ambition is fuel.
We don’t marvel at traveling to another continent; we simply plan it. We don’t wait for the right moment to start something; we start, and figure it out on the way.
There is a term in sociology called liquid modernity, coined by Zygmunt Bauman, describing how life today is flexible, fast-changing, and self-designed. Thus, we have learned that identity can travel too.
The confidence of a global mind
Sometimes, when I try to balance life on the crossroads of everything at once, I think about that woman in Rome. How she stood in her heels, radiating joy, fulfilling something that had waited decades.
And I realize what she did was beautiful.
But what we are doing, living, moving, creating without sacrifice, is fascinating. We are the first generation that doesn’t need to ask if something is possible. We just need to decide whether we want it to be.
And when I fall asleep, I sometimes look at the walls of my room, walls that once felt like a cage full of dreams I thought would never be mine and realize I no longer see them as borders.
The world hasn’t changed.
We have just grown spiritually large enough to fit within it.
