It’s always nesting within your mind. When good, it ranges from unremarkable complacency to all-out excitement. But when it misbehaves, it is terrifying. Uncertainty, lathered in your insecurities, constantly slips out of your grasp, letting you touch it before it bounces away from you. My early 20’s were spent trying to find control of my uncertainties, to the point where it became the toxic forefront of everyday life. I truly felt isolated in my struggle, believing that I was the only one who let this affect my friendships, my relationships, and my self-security.
Then I watched Master of None...
It was a bleak November day, one of those days where you knew an unwanted form of precipitation would kill any form of motivation you might have (In hindsight, it was a great day to contemplate the termination of 2015). Aided by the company of my boyfriend and thirteen donuts, I was ready to watch the show that everyone was telling me “I would be obsessed with.” The pilot was solid-not great, but I decided I’d give it a shot. I’ve never been more thankful for the ‘next episode’ button on Netflix (and that is saying a lot).
Master of None flowed effortlessly, navigating each issue it touched on uniquely and approachability, and never without a touch of humor. Twelve episodes flew by, and I felt like I had the glimpse into a 30-something’s life in New York that I both wanted and desperately needed. But it wasn’t until the finale’s focus on the uncertainty that I was forced to confront my unhealthy relationship with the issue.
Flash forward to the penultimate scene of Master of None. Dev and Rachel, grappling with the uncertainties that come with being in a long-term relationship, take some time to think about what they want. I related so far, as my ex and I had gone through the same thing. But when Dev opens the door and sees Rachel donning a hot pink bob, it might as well have been me standing in the entryway. The show’s ability to cut so deep into a subject so close to me (complete with the same impulsive hair transformation) inspired me to ask myself a difficult but necessary question: Why was I so afraid of the uncertain?
After hours of recapping my most transformative year, I realized two things for certain: I can consume a horrifying amount of donuts, and uncertainty will forever be in my life. Throughout my college years and my first long-term adult relationship, T.V. gave me an idealized vision of what that should look like. Mainstream media never let me forget that I should have it all figured out by now. These televised fantasies were a catalyst for me trying to create the ‘ideal’ college experience, the ‘perfect’ relationship. No one ever tells you it’s ok to be uncertain and not in control, and the implication that you should be is daunting.
Master of None is the first show I’ve seen to tell the truth: Everyone is uncertain. Everyone. About anything and everything. Seeing on screen characters deal with this universal truth was refreshing, and liberating.
It’s still scary to not have control sometimes. It’s scary to think that you are alone in not having it all together. But the Master of None finale enlightened me to the fact that no young person has it all together. This epiphany has made me comfortable talking about a seemingly taboo subject with the people in my life, and has brought us closer as a result. While I’ll never be in love with it, I can finally say uncertainty and I can live in peace with each other.
Author's note: I have recently re-watched the finale, and am happy to report that I relate most to the taco search scene at this point in my life.
Julia is a writer and life explorer based out of Atlanta, Georgia. When she's not shouting out literary symbolism in TV shows or pretending she's Stevie Wonder's backup singer no matter where she is, she's probably eating and creating with whoever still wants to be friends with her. These friends are mostly animals. Follow her on her hilariously awesome Twitter @juliaabramson and catch up on her tour through the culinary scene of ATL @ChessusWalks. If you want more info on her rad writing shoot her an email firstname.lastname@example.org