I suppose it's time to jump on the bandwagon, and mention that NY Times article about 20-somethings. I suppose it's bad manners to assume you've already read it. As Stuart Smalley (nee, Al Franken) said, "...when you assume, you make an ass out of Uma Thurman."
So, the basic points of it were that the 20-somethings has become a time to discover yourself, a time to process adulthood, rather than being a full-fledged adult.
...You should probably just set an afternoon aside and read it for yourself.
I left that article behind feeling ... more lost than ever, I suppose.
I'm in the last gasp of my 20's, and have less idea of what to do now than ever before.
I want to change the world, but I don't want that to change my world.
I want to be entrenched in a job I love, but still have plenty of vacation time.
I want to make a real difference, so long as I'm paid amply.
I want to write stories, but I can barely keep this blog afloat.
If you've ever been in the same boat, let me ask you something: Did you get out? Did you sink or swim? How did you find what you wanted to do.
And so long as we're talking articles, how 'bout this one in Psychology Today, addressing the bad habit we all have of comparing up. With Facebook, and MySpace (oh, that jilted love), and Twitter galore, we have a barrage of fabulous lives to compare ours to, and how could they ever live up? The article's point was that well-adjusted people don't compare themselves to anyone other than themselves.
The whole bit made me feel pretty ok, for about 2 minutes, until I thought what about siblings? If ever there was a fair comparison to make, wouldn't it be to siblings? Someone a similar age, with similar opportunities, and even the same damn gene pool?
My mum once told me it's not fair to compare myself to my brother, but I couldn't think of anything more fair.
My brother the doctor.
My brother, the life of the party, the social butterfly.
I mean, the man gets paid to take summers off and visit friends.
And if I don't compare myself to him, how about all the other fabulous people I know? I don't need to venture as far as tabloids to find amazing lives. They're all right here, sharing their city with me.
I've never lived overseas, like some friends, nor have I started my own business, or biked an entire coastline. All these amazing people and their stories, and it's so hard not to feel like an anchor.
I remember that feeling of possibility, and for my life, I don't know where it's gone. I used to swear I would never work in some office, on some menial job, and now I'm pushing my resume just to be allowed a cubicle and some grey lighting.
Will another article be written, giving hope to those of us (almost) out of our 20's, saying that the 30's are a time of self-discovery and fulfillment? Or is this it? Have I wasted it all away?
3 comments:
So, you and your brother and lots of people we both know may laugh at this, and not without good reason, but I've found it helpful to think of this period as my "Saturn Return". I think the NY Times writer is a bit behind the times, as the notion of 30-ish as the real transition to adulthood is quite old. I find this comforting--everyone seems to go through something. Here are some readables: http://www.newage-directory.com/saturn.html http://saturnsisters.com/whats-the-saturn-return/ Do I blame the planet Saturn? No, I do not. But the fact it's "a thing" means there is a lot of advice out there about it. It's kindly referred to as a "teaching time" of your life.
I wouldn't say that I have "come through" this period (I think I'm still in it), but one thing that has happened during this time has been that I've recognized a lot more how my family and childhood shaped who I am, and what barriers I impose on myself as a result of them. For example, I only recently realized that I actually *am* angry about my parents' divorce and other things they did and didn't do--not to mention other relationships that have messed me up, and people (like my brother) who got what I thought I should have had. I don't really think the anger itself is something to hold onto, but knowing it's there really opens doors--once I know these feelings are there, I can forgive myself for having them, and look at them from the outside. I feel more in control, better able to recognize what I really want. I'm hoping this paves the way to letting the 30's be a time of self-discovery and fulfillment...but, no guarantees, I guess.
I totally went through the quarter-life crisis at 25.
If it makes you feel better, I just started grad school. I'm 31. There are lots of people in my program in their 40s, 50s and 60s.
Jenny Jo: this actually was nice to read. It's also a huge relief that other people, people I respect, have a tendency to feel the same way. Thanks!
Sarah: Also, thank you! I'd like to go back to school in the near future, and it's comforting to know I won't be the only person with crow's feet.
Post a Comment