Oh, the perks of getting older... and realizing that my emotions really aren't much different than my teenage years. Wasn't I supposed to reach a state of Zen or maturity at some point? Why does it still sometimes feel like I'm sitting at home, by the phone, on a Friday night hoping that I will get invited to the party?
Is a mid-life crisis just as bad as being ousted from a clique in 5th grade??? Please say no!
My wise friend recently pointed out that maybe one of the reasons adulthood feels so difficult (even in the best of circumstances) is that we feel the pressure to act as if everything is ok. That we ourselves are completely fine. EVERYTHING IS FINE. Our houses should be well decorated, we should have a satisfying career, we should have money to explore our hobbies and travel at will. We should have a well established social circle and our families will too. We won't feel insecure or unwanted or very uncertain about everyday decisions. These are the unrealistic expectations. We all have serious doubts/fears and probably incorrectly, feel judged about not having it all figured out.
EVERYTHING IS FINE.
Except it isn't. Parenthood, if anything, is a test tube of self-doubt. You never know if you've been too harsh or too lax. Are we reading enough books or watching too much television? Why don't we have game night more often? Are my children happy? (On a side note: I actually think it's healthy to feel that way - because if you think you know it all... you're probably not reacting to your children's varied personalities and their feedback should help guide you.) Adulting is rough!
But if you think back to the teenage years, when everything felt out of your control and school was a social experiment (even in the best of circumstances) of whether you'd be elated or crying in the bathroom. What made those years bearable and what produced some of the best friendships... was the mutual understanding that life SUCKED for all of us. We fought with our parents, felt misunderstood, had raging hormones that were unpredictable. It was okay to write a dramatic note to a friend or say you didn't have a clue about what you wanted to study in college. It was okay to be a hot mess, because the assumption was that we were all hot messes in one way or another. Together. We saw the messy dynamics of each other's families and asked for help when we needed it.
Fast forward to adulthood and it's so hard to be open and vulnerable. We hide behind social media posts - sharing mostly good things. It's frowned upon to be negative. It could be a liability for work or being accepted into what is now the "mommy clique".
What I am learning as an adult, is that I am much more sensitive than I ever realized. I recently read only the introduction to the book The Highly Sensitive Person - I was ready to be diagnosed. Yes, that's me 150%.
I have always "brushed off" rude comments or thought I was secure enough in my confidence to let criticism fall to the wayside. There are still parts of me that are very well-defined - I am very comfortable with my achievements, my balance with spirituality, my independent streak and my major life choices. But I also don't rebound quickly from rejection. I am hurt deeply by people's insensitive actions. I sometimes feel like I absorb the feelings in the room. If someone is stressed, it hits me with electricity. There's no turning it off. I will think about our conversation two years from now.
So what's my point about being a highly sensitive person in adulthood? I fear that adulthood prevents us from making those deep connections with others. Out of fear for being judged or not having it all together. Can't we all kind of revert and coddle our inner adolescent selves a bit? Can we all shout out loud "I DONT KNOWWHATTHERIGHTANSWER IS?" And can we all truly see each other for a moment... reach out and send a silly note, voice our concerns and value friendship like we used to.
