Menu: Parenting
Will Someone Please Help Me Navigate Adulthood?
by Emily Carter
Updated: Jan. 29, 2016
Originally Published: Dec. 26, 2014
Today marks my 40th birthday. For the past 15 years, I’ve been dyeing my hair due to premature graying, I diligently apply wrinkle cream, and my joints tend to creak when I rise too quickly. Yet, despite these signs of aging, I don’t feel like an adult.
I keep anticipating that transformative moment—the “aha!” realization—when I will feel aligned with the responsibilities of adulthood. However, that moment remains elusive.
After graduating from college, I believed it was typical to still feel childlike. Each milestone—my first job, my first apartment, and my first car—felt like steps toward maturity, yet I often felt like I was merely playing a role rather than genuinely maturing. When I married my spouse, I thought, “This is it! Now I’ll finally embody the adult I’ve seen in movies.” We would engage in meaningful conversations over dinner on our stylish, adult dinnerware. But surprisingly, no significant emotional shift occurred.
I distinctly recall how adult-like my own parents appeared during my childhood. By the time they reached my age, they had purchased their forever home, established college funds for us, and set aside youthful distractions. They avoided pop music, dressed in mature attire, and followed the news with keen interest. My mother volunteered at church, and my father referred to his younger colleagues as “those kids.” They seemed too preoccupied with supporting our family and community to ponder their own fulfillment or purpose. Inadvertently, they became too busy to share their wisdom with us.
The arrival of my first child offered a faint glimpse of adulthood. While I hoped it would be a groundbreaking experience, it was more of a subtle realization. Being responsible for another life is a significant undertaking, and in moments of clarity, I recognized I was no longer a child—after all, I had just given birth. Yet, I knew individuals who became parents in high school or college and still didn’t seem to embody adulthood either. Once I adjusted to the demands of caring for an infant, I was just a woman with a baby, still engrossed in gossip magazines. At 30 years old, the number didn’t significantly change my perception of being a responsible adult.
When my oldest child began preschool, I looked around the classroom during one of the many parent meetings and questioned what I was doing among these seemingly competent parents. They owned homes, drove minivans, and had retirement plans. They crafted seasonal wreaths for their doors and consistently sent thank-you notes. They were everything I aspired to be, yet I felt out of place in my Doc Martens and nose ring, lacking the organizational skills to manage my life like they did. I wanted to embody their confidence, but I was unsure how to transition into that role.
Over the years, I’ve made some progress. I now jot down important meetings in a notebook, occasionally wear dressier shoes, and have even embraced the idea of changing the wreath on our townhouse door. With four children now, I drive a minivan—my first nice vehicle. I’ve tried to adopt some of the adult behaviors I’ve observed in those around me, but the truth remains: I often forget that I am, indeed, an adult. I’m of an age where I could have an adult child. Perhaps one of them could teach me the ropes of adulthood?
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In summary, the journey to adulthood is often filled with uncertainty and self-doubt. While milestones and responsibilities may suggest maturity, true adulthood can sometimes feel elusive. Sharing experiences and seeking advice can help us all navigate this complex stage of life.
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