Quarter-life crisis: When ‘What now?’ hits Malaysian youths hard

JULY 5 — I read an article recently about a man in his 30s who envied his colleagues who are buying fancy stuff and visiting cool countries while he’s slaving away.

Likewise, in my interaction with much younger friends and students it’s not uncommon to hear laments along the lines of “I feel like I’m faking adulthood. Everyone on LinkedIn and Instagram looks like they’ve got it together. I don’t even know if this career is what I want five years from now.”

Welcome to the quarter-life crisis, Malaysian edition.

We used to think existential angst was something that hits you at 45 when middle age comes knocking on your existential doors. Turns out, for a growing number of young Malaysians, the question arrives much earlier — right around SPM and/or after receiving the infamous “golden keys”.

The numbers are sobering. According to the National Health and Morbidity Survey (NHMS) 2023, depression among adults aged 15 and above has doubled since 2019 to 4.6 per cent, affecting roughly one million people. 

The burden falls heaviest on younger age groups, particularly those aged 16 to 29. Among adolescents, one study even found depressive symptoms in about 26.9 per cent of secondary school students. 

The Malaysian Youth Mental Health Index 2023 paints a similar picture of moderate overall risk, with the “Healthy Mind” domain scoring substantially lower than ideal. 

This isn’t just “kids nowadays being dramatic”; it’s a developmental crunch point — what psychologists call emerging adulthood — colliding with quiet but hard realities like societal expectations, peer envy, identity and so on.

Voilà, the quarter-life crisis.

What’s feeding it? I’ve got a few guesses. 

Take our education system for starters. We’ve built an impressive machine for producing exam-takers and degree-holders. What we haven’t built nearly as well is a machine for producing people who know how to navigate uncertainty, failure, pivots and the gap between “what society expects” and “what actually makes sense for me.”

This is when the real world comes and the comfy classroom or living room vibe won’t hack it no more.

Competitive job markets, rising cost of living, delayed milestones (marriage, house, financial independence), and parents who still ask those classic questions with the best of intentions. 

Pile on social media — the endless highlight reels of peers “winning” — and you have a perfect storm of comparison, self-doubt, and quiet despair. 

Many young people feel both locked out (can’t find the right path or the all-important breakthrough) and locked in (stuck in something that doesn’t fit). 

The result? More anxiety, more burnout, more “I’m behind” syndrome, and yes, rising depression and anxiety.

Two low-hanging fruits

First, universities and colleges should treat out of campus transition as seriously as they treat the transition in. 

Right now, most career services focus on job placement — résumés, interviews, that sort of thing. 

What’s missing is structured support for the bigger questions: Who am I becoming? What kind of life am I actually willing to build? How do I handle not having all the answers?

A modest but mandatory (or at least strongly encouraged) “Life Design” or “Navigating Your 20s” module in the final year — covering identity exploration, values clarification, basic financial resilience, and normalising multiple career paths — would cost relatively little and could prevent a lot of quiet suffering later.

Make it practical, discussion-based, and facilitated by people who aren’t just academics. Young adults don’t need more lectures; they need space to think out loud without judgement. 

HELP Institute’s Dengar Rakan Muda Project (launched last year in collaboration with the Sports & Youth Ministry) is certainly something along these lines.

Second, we need to normalise non-linear paths and build lightweight community support for it. 

Right now, taking time after graduation to explore, intern in different fields, volunteer, or even travel (within reason) is still often viewed with suspicion — by families especially. What if we flipped the script and made these things “cool” and endorsed?

Simple, accessible “Exploration Hubs” or peer-led programmes run by universities, NGOs, or even local councils could be immensely helpful. 

These would be places where young people can meet others in the same boat, share stories, get light mentorship, and try small experiments without it looking like “wasting time.” 

Pair this with public messaging that celebrates non-traditional journeys the same way we celebrate straight-A students and corporate climbers. A little cultural permission goes a long way.

These aren’t silver bullets. They’re nevertheless relatively low-cost interventions that address the meaning and belonging gaps at the heart of the quarter-life struggle.

Our young people aren’t lazy or entitled. 

Many of them are simply exhausted from trying to adult in a world that still runs on old scripts while everything around them has changed. 

The least we can do is stop pretending the script still works and give them better tools — and a bit more grace — to write their own?

* This is the personal opinion of the columnist.