relative adulthood

Hmmm... for more on the recurring theme of "adulthood," start with Becky's post on Twixters (but don't forget to come back!). Emerging adulthood is actually a recently acknowledged stage of development (I had to answer a bunch of questions about it for a final last week). So it's been on my mind, and I actually hounded my prof about research into urban tribes for a while (there's not much).

One "official designation" is that emerging adulthood lasts from 18-25 (I disagree). The hallmarks of emerging from emerging adulthood are when one begins to make commitments. Maybe that means marriage or kids, maybe it just means picking one job and sticking with it for a while rather than trying something new every six months. It means being able to engage in intimate relationships (friendships or otherwise). It means entering a period of (relative) stability.

So do we count as emerged? What does it mean to make commitments in the current urban landscape, where even if I choose to stay, maybe no one else will? What if "starting a family" looks more like an urban tribe for an extended period of time? And why is just deciding to be present somewhere (instead of mentally being where we were in the past, or where we want to be in the future) so much harder than it sounds?

They say we're commitment-phobic, and perhaps in some senses we are -- but I don't think it's because we're always waiting for something better to come along. I think it's because we don't know how to say yes to anything. First, we have too many options, which should be a blessing, but winds up being a paralyzing curse when we fear squandering any of them. So one day we figure out that ultimate choice is not ultimate freedom, and we think about making some commitments. But we can't afford houses, or condos, or even monthly parking spaces, which precludes the physical aspect of attachment to places we're trying to call "home." Marrying someone no longer just means that we have to compromise on which movie to rent this weekend -- now it likely means we have to compromise on which state to live in. And TV news (which you should all stop watching, if you haven't already, unless you need to know the weather) has us convinced that if we have kids they're going die by some obscure petrifying household scenario, like suffocating on a teddy bear. So we put it off, we live in limbo for a while. That's our relative stability.

I think many of us are the model of the new"emerged" adult, where changing jobs every few years is part of a developed career path, and where intimate relationships are no less strong for lack of blood ties or civil sanctions. Or maybe I'm really full of crap, and I know nothing about commitments and we really don't have any.... But I don't know a single person who doesn't crave roots, depth, and commitment of sorts. We're wired that way. So I think what we're really afraid of is vulnerability, which is a necessary byproduct of hitching your wagon to something outside of yourself, like spouses and kids.