I thought once I started college, I’d have life figured out–or at the very least, I’d have time to do so. I was quickly swept up with deciding my major (English Literature), wondering if I would have time time for a minor (Yes, American Studies), and asking myself if I would ever feel like I had my life in a more ordered fashion all together (Not Quite).
I find myself in an odd state of shock and comfort as I realize that the adults in my life, who in my mind are at the epitome of having their lives in order, have a dirty little secret: they are just really good fakers. This got me wondering, why are we so intent on presenting ourselves as ‘perfect’?
I began to think that maybe it had something to do with outward appearance. I for one completely understand the need to put one’s best foot forward. But when did it become socially unacceptable to admit “I’m struggling; I’m unsure; I feel weak”?
I think this uncertainty of sharing our weak moments is inherent. We like to be prepared; we like to think we have it all figured out. When we were kids, we were praised for being put together and ready. Perhaps we felt embarrassed when we couldn’t keep up with the rest of the class, but we were secure knowing that an adult would step in and help us sooner than later. (Not that we’d openly admit it to anybody because that would be preposterous; we have been taught that to need help is weak and to accept help is the ultimate sign of failure.)
Never have these questions of self-doubt and anxiety seemed more relevant than with the discussion of post-college plans. My peers and I quiz each other on a regular basis: “What are you doing next year? What grad schools are you applying to? Have you taken your LSAT yet?” Sure, we ask because we are looking for a human connection with our classmates and friends, but I think there’s something more lying beneath the convenient guise of simple curiosity.
Maybe we’re all looking for that reassurance that becoming an adult is a difficult, and not always rewarding process; we look for the unifying moments of struggle with each other to know that there are others out there trying to figure their lives out also, and we are not alone. But this is often unsuccessful, because people are so intent to only share their best, proudest moments, and not the ones that made them feel vulnerable, confused and afraid.
Trust me, I am not writing this article from a place of organized, confident elitism. Rather, I’m speaking from the crowd of clueless and frankly scared folk in their early 20s who anytime they express feeling lost or unprepared for the real world—whatever that is—get shut down with comments of being spoiled, narcissistic millennials who should just quit whining, get a job already and move on with our lives. But I and countless others question how long will it be until we will be real adults. Will we ever stop feeling lost and unsure? Will there ever be a moment when the chaos dies down into a neat, calm path?
As time moves on, people grow more secretive about their inability to keep their lives running as smoothly as they’d like them to be. I think it’s because we hope we’ve arrived at that magic moment in our lives when we are invincible, independent and confident when really, we are just human: fallible, dependent and doubtful of many of our moves and thoughts.
The truth is, we are never ‘there.’ Yes, we are hopefully always moving towards a calmer, more collected state. But I think we have to realize that there is value to the uncomfortable struggle, that is becoming ourselves. When we do feel that we have arrived at a calmer moment, we can recognize, reflect and prepare for the next step.
Furthermore, I think that if we were to be honest with ourselves and others about the difficulties involved in becoming adults—be they personal, academic or professional—we would find reassurance in the realization that we are not alone in our confusion of deciding or even discovering what our ‘next steps’ are.
In my opinion, the following is what it means to be an “adult”: the art of discovering our limits and passions and finding the will to fashion those callings in a meaningful manner that will make ourselves proud and fulfilled. And if those moments, when shared, prove helpful or comforting to others, consider a new level of Adulthood unlocked.