On a cold Sunday evening in January I was walking home from a meeting with a fellow board member of the NY chapter of Spelman’s alumnae association and we were casually chatting, catching each other up on life since we last spoke. We talked about family and love lives and had the inevitable “state-of-the-career” conversation.
As a late twenty-something woman, one theme that seems to be recurring most amongst myself and my peers is a yearning to figure out what we’re going to do with the rest of our lives. But I don’t mean that in a panicked, soon to be college graduate kind of way which breeds anxiety and uncharted stress levels about the first move in a chess game – we’ve been there, done that already. Rather, our existentialism is in an “I’ve done everything I said I would do, I’ve made it but it doesn’t feel right” kind of way.
We’ve gone to medical school and business school, we’ve worked elbow-to-elbow with top executives and industry big shots, we’ve earned M.A.’s, J.D.’s and D.D.S’s, we are in residencies, at top firms and Fortune 500 companies – yet something feels off. Something is missing.
At this age we had expected to be like those cool older cousins who at family reunions would awe us with their life experiences, fly clothes and deep conversation. We hoped we would feel like Carrie Bradshaw living a fabulous life of partying with celebs and having an epic love story. We thought making good money and driving nice cars was the end-all and be-all. Yet, for many of us, the grass doesn’t seem much greener on this side of things. We’ve taken to finding hobbies, starting businesses, traveling the world, and writing blogs as our outlet, our last ditch effort to figure out what is that thing that makes us tick.
And I don’t know about you, but I see my friends getting married, having kids and settling in their “real” lives, and although I am so happy for them the thought of it happening to me comes with mixed feelings. I think to myself, “hurry, quick, figure out what will make you happy because when you have a husband and kids you won’t have time to play this guessing game. Playing Russian roulette with your life is one thing but playing it with theirs will have much bigger consequences.” The pressure of figuring this thing out ASAP is nerve-wrecking.
So what’s my advice to my fellow late twenty-somethings who are yearning for more but not sure how to get to the Promised Land? I’ll let you know when I find out.