Dear reader,

Have you ever looked in the mirror, signed deeply and said to yourself: “Well …. now what?”

If the answer is yes – welcome to Existentialism. If it is a “no” – the previous still applies. Because this is what this philosophy is actually about: not really knowing what to do with yourself. It is about understanding that life does not come with instructions, a warranty, or even a decent user manual. As a matter of fact, existentialism is what happens when human beings become self-aware enough to ask life big questions and also realizing the sad truth that … there are no clear answers.

Existentialism didn’t just appear out of nowhere – it was carefully cultivated by some overthinkers who stared into the void long enough for the void to answer. Or become awkward. It is still undecided. Three of its biggest overthinkers – Albert Camus, Jean-Paul Sartre and Soren Kierkegaard helped turn everyday human confusion into a philosophical movement. Cool.

Kierkegaard has always been my favourite. I find his ideas to be actually … sensible. Overthinker and all. FYI, he is considered to be the “father of existentialism”. He believed in something called “the leap”. It is what you do when logic runs out and you have to make a decision – he compared it to standing at the edge of a cliff and thinking “well, I don’t have all the answers, but here goes nothing” and you commit – to belief, to purpose, to pretending you know what you are doing. You know, fake it ’till you make it kind of thing. Naturally, this process will involve anxiety. Not the casual “I have a test tomorrow” anxiety, but the deep, existential kind – the realization that your life is entirely up to you. Kierkegaard basically said something like – Congratulations! You are free! Also, this will terrify you.

Yes, it does.

At its core, existentianalism argues that existence comes before essence. In normal human terms: you show up first, and only later figure out what on earth you’re supposed to be doing here. “Voila! You are destined to become a teacher who enjoys travelling the world.” Here is the manual. NO ONE SAID THAT. EVER. Instead … you just arrive. And then you have to figure everything out from scratch, like assembling IKEA furniture without a friend and a diagram – except this is too easy. Wait, I have a better example. Dear students, it’s like being dropped into a group project where no one assigned roles, there’s no deadline (you bet there is), and somehow you are still expected to present something meaningful (you better). Naturally, even writing this caused me anxiety so imagine this in real life.

We know that existentialism is deeply concerned with freedom – specifically the uncomfortable realization that you are completely free. You can choose everything about you. Your path, values, identity. But you are also the one responsible. Who me? Yes, you. No one to blame for the bad haircut of 2013 or getting married too young, or spending your entire salary in one week this last October, or any other questionable choice you ever made. It does sound inspiring until you realize it also means that you really cannot blame anyone else for your decisions – not your parents, not society, not even that one persuasive friend who convinced you bangs were a good idea.

Existentialist thinkers spent a lot of time wrestling with this freedom. Some described it as “anguish” or to put it in a simple example – “I stayed up at 3 a.m wondering if anything matters and now I regret everything” (no shame in that we’ve all been there). Others leaned into the absurdity of life (Albert Camus) – the idea that we humans desperately search for meaning in a universe where nothing has one. Even choosing not to choose is, inconveniently, still a choice. It’s like life is constantly asking, “So, what do you want to be?” and you can’t just reply, “I don’t know, vibes?”

Strangely, existentialism is actually not all doom and gloom. Hidden between all the drama and staying up late pondering your existence is the following suprisingly optimistic idea:

If life has no predetermined meaning, then you get to create your own!

How cool is that??

So according to the philosophical movement of Existentialism you are, in a sense, the author of your story.

Though possibly an author who is occasionally confused, feels sorry for himself, gets seasonal depression, wants to retire at the age of 36, is cynical, grumpy and can write nonsense. But I digress. We are all work in progress.

Next time you are staring into space, questioning your life choices, or wondering whether your cat understands the void better than you do – congratulations. You are skinny dipping in existentialism.

Just remember: the universe may not hand you meaning, but it also doesn’t stop you from buying that bag you like so much. And if that’s not freedom then, what is? The classic “But I had no choice!!!” Ohhh tsk tsk tsk. Yeah, you did. According to this philosophy you always have a choice – even if all the options are terrible. Especially then.

So yes, existentialism can feel a bit heavy. It asks you to face uncertainty, embrace freedom, and accept responsibility – all before your morning coffee. In the end, it is less about having answers and more about learning to live with the questions. Oh, how I hate that. I don’t know about you but I’ve always wanted answers. Needed them. I guess we will just have to make peace with never getting them.

I’ve always thought that this philosophy wants us to acknowledge that life might not come with a grand purpose. And we have to be okay with that because we need to get busy inventing our own. And if that invention involves snacks, naps, vacation, travelling, and occasional moments of profound (or not) insight while staring through the window – well, good job. You are choosing to do you. However you see fit. With your stupid mistakes, regrets, flaws and all. And this is existentialism done right.

So dear “author”… You are here. You exist. Now what? Write your Chapter 1.

Yours, screaming into the void,

Mila