For most of modern history, adulthood came with a script. Graduate. Get a job. Get married. Have children. Buy a house. Become responsible. Throw all whimsy and colour out the door. Repeat until retirement.
It wasn’t necessarily a perfect script. For many people, it was restrictive, dare I say, especially for women. It left little room for reinvention, exploration, or simply changing your mind. But it had only one advantage: everyone knew where the finish line was.
But today, that finish line keeps moving farther and farther away. 30 used to be the age where people expected you to have your life together. Now people in their thirties joke about feeling like teenagers playing pretend. People in their forties are still “figuring things out,” and fifty-year-olds are now embarking on second careers, new relationships, and fresh starts.
Perhaps that is why a recent UK survey found that 50 was the age when people felt most “confident and in control” of their lives.
Whatever age we’re at, adulthood keeps refusing to arrive on schedule. At this rate, 50, not 30, has started to sound like the new cusp of adulthood. And honestly, can you blame us?
The adult handbook is on fire
This isn’t a generation that has forgotten how to be an adult or one that’s rebelling against it. It’s a generation trying to hit the same old milestones in a world that no longer makes it easy.
But there is another problem. The adult handbook is on fire. The old milestones exist, but they have become hard to reach. For this is the best of times and possibly the worst of times.
Take the economy. Gen Z and younger millennials entered adulthood at the most turbulent times in recent history. Many graduated into the Covid-19 pandemic, a period that disrupted education, hiring, career growth, and financial stability.
Before the world could fully recover, there was one crisis after another. Inflation surged; housing became increasingly unaffordable. Wars rattled the world, and climate disasters became annual events rather than once-in-a-generation catastrophes.
I mean “tough” barely begins to describe the economic starting line. A stable job no longer guarantees a stable life. In many cities, rent alone swallows a good chunk of a person’s income. Groceries cost more. Healthcare costs more. Transportation costs more. Just to summarise, “existing” costs more.
The bare minimum is no longer particularly bare. For many young adults, one job is not enough. Freelance work and second incomes are not luxury pursuits but survival strategies.
Also Read: Most GenZ people are not even GenZ. It’s a state of mind
The education paradox
Then there is the education paradox. Gen Z is often described as the most educated generation yet. More people are attending university than ever before. More people have degrees, certificates, and certified skills. But education no longer guarantees employment. So the loop continues. More degrees, more competition, less certainty.
And all of this inevitably spills into the mental health crisis. Burnout has become so common that it barely sounds alarming anymore. Anxiety is practically a generational language at this point. Stress is the common denominator among all. The future seems urgent and impossible at the same time. How is one supposed to plan a wedding, save for a home, and map out the next decade when they are struggling not to spiral after sending a work email?
The point is, the traditional markers of adulthood require a degree of stability. And in these times, stability is increasingly a luxury.
The comparison machine
And how can I forget social media, perhaps the biggest accelerator of adult anxiety. The internet promised connection. Instead, it made us all part of a big comparison machine. Every scroll presents another benchmark. Someone bought a house. Someone is travelling the world. Someone got engaged. More things to make you feel like you’re lagging, like you’re not doing enough. More things to own, more to consume. The mountain never stops growing. No matter how much you climb, you can never reach the top.
Under all this weight, it is hardly surprising that young adults are distancing themselves from traditional adulting milestones altogether. Marriage is happening later. Home ownership is being postponed, and having children increasingly feels like a financial decision rather than an inevitable next step.
Reinventing adulthood
Adults are often seen as shirking responsibility, when they may simply be responding to the circumstances around them. What we are witnessing is not the death of adulthood as we know it, but its reinvention. The timelines that previous generations set and treated as universal are no longer universally achievable.
Yes, the frontal cortex fully develops around the age of 25. But must we immediately burden it with debt, marriage, kids, retirement anxiety, and the constant fear of being left behind? Life should be about more than just chasing checkpoints.
Adulthood looks slower, messier, and more unconventional than it once did. And it’s not because people changed, but because the world they inherited did.
Edited by Maryam Hassan