This author’s note originally appeared in the December 5th edition of my author newsletter. To subscribe to my newsletter, click here.
We had a very eventful Thanksgiving this year. My whole side of the family was in town for a baptism and a funeral, and we had Thanksgiving dinner with Mrs. Vasicek’s family, as well as pie night, which is a tradition my in-laws have. So lots and lots of family, which was stressful in some ways but also a lot of fun.
Mrs. Vasicek and I took advantage of this to make a family announcement, which I can now share with you: we’re having a baby! The due date for little junior is in May, and we don’t yet know if it’s a boy or a girl, but we will definitely find out next month.
I don’t think it’s really hit either of us yet. Of course, it’s something we talked about while we were dating, and since both of us are in our thirties we decided it would be best not to wait. Our lives are sure to change in a major way once little junior comes along, but for now, it’s still business as usual.
It has made me think a little bit about a blog post I wrote some nine and a half years ago, right after I graduated from college. The post was a response to a New York Times article about “emerging adulthood,” or the idea that we should count the time between adolescence and full adulthood as a separate stage of life.
The article points out that there are five traditional milestones that mark the transition to adulthood:
- Completing school
- Leaving home
- Achieving financial independence
- Getting married
- Having a child
In our parents’ and grandparents’ generations, people commonly achieved all of these milestones sometime in their early twenties. However (the NYT article argues), because that isn’t as easy in today’s modern world, and because the human brain isn’t fully developed until about age 25, we shouldn’t put too much pressure on young people to achieve these milestones until their late twenties or early thirties.
As a 25 year-old at the time I read the article, I was much more interested in how I measured up with the milestones than the argument for putting off adulthood itself. Now, at age 35, I’m finally about to hit the last one.
I never consciously tried to put off the responsibilities of adulthood. If I’d found Mrs. Vasicek in my mid-twenties, I wouldn’t have made her wait another ten years. And yet, it seems that many of my peers are putting off adulthood as long as they can—in some cases, indefinitely. There’s a reason why “adulting” is a word now, and why pajama-boy is a meme.
And yet… if I’d met Mrs. Vasicek ten years ago, I don’t think it would have worked out. And if somehow it did, I probably would have put my writing career on the back burner, or abandoned it entirely. Many of my friends who got married a year or two out of college did exactly that. Those who are still pursuing their creative careers are generally either single, married without children, or stay-at-home moms (which seems even more difficult than juggling writing with a day job, but hey).
I suppose I benefited from this idea of “emerging adulthood,” since through my mid-thirties I basically was one. But I didn’t choose it because it was the easy path. It would have been a lot easier to give up on writing—but ironically, I don’t think Mrs. Vasicek would have been attracted to me if I’d done that, and there’s a very good chance I’d still be a single basement-dweller.
So what does this mean about this idea of “emerging adulthood”? Is it something that we should recognize? Yes, but not as an excuse to put off the responsibilities and milestones of adulthood. It isn’t worth putting off your life—or your future family—just because you’re afraid to take that next step, whatever it may be.
