Thankfully, my father financially supports me and my life in New York City.

I graduated from New York University twice. The first time was when I earned my bachelor's degree in 2023; the second was when I completed my master's the following year.

I enrolled at NYU because I thought attending a prestigious institution would secure me a job or give me a leg up in the job application process. I could not have been more wrong.

As a writer, I'm still struggling to find a full-time job that pays the bills. In the meantime, I'm relying on my father for financial support.

After graduating with our bachelor's, many of my friends dove into the workforce; however, I was determined to get a master's to add an extra pizazz to my résumé. I wanted to earn an additional qualification in the hopes that if I landed an interview, I could negotiate a higher salary due to the further degree. But it hasn't helped.

I dedicated time to a rigorous program and still do not have a stable freelance or salary position. It's draining and beginning to weigh on me mentally. My anxiety is starting to pace up and down the corridors in my head. I can't help but judge myself.

I look at my friends who are accomplishing big things in their careers, and I feel left behind. I have a budding sense that I'm not good enough and lack a significant part of emerging adulthood.

While I am exceedingly proud of my friends and forever will cheer them on, my inner child mumbles, "What about me?"

While I persist in my career search, my father financially supports me -- a fact I am eternally grateful for and quite embarrassed about. He pays for my New York City rent, which is no small price.

When I tell people, "I'm a writer," there are a few generated responses. While individuals find it remarkable, the question of "How can you live in Manhattan then?" eventually comes around.

It's awkward to say my father supports me when I am almost in my mid-20s, but I would rather be embarrassed and pursue the career I want than be miserable in a job I loathe.

My father raised me to be an avid reader and to appreciate the arts. He became my champion when I expressed my dream of being a successful writer. Thankfully, he hasn't given up on me even though I haven't figured out the "success" part yet.

Since receiving my master's, I have done seven unpaid internships at well-known fashion and culture magazines, dedicating hours to pitch meetings, drafting, editing, and creating articles that live on their websites. These bylines have been a fantastic feat to accomplish.

However, the trade-off, which seems somewhat fair, is also murky. I don't get paid. While I understand that unpaid internships are the norm within the editorial and fashion industry, I can't pretend it doesn't ruffle my feathers. Yes, I am getting something out of it, but the morality of asking someone to work for free is complicated.

Thankfully, I am in a position to do that because of my generational wealth. However, my financial reality is not the norm.

For now, I will keep pursuing my dreams of being a writer and hopefully be able to support myself sometime soon.