Every day, we are offered a glossy brochure about what our life is supposed to look like.  We may see it in the lives of our peers and friends, in questions asked and assumptions made about our choices, among admired colleagues and mentors, and amidst the media-thick diet that we consume daily.  Even if you’re living on a commune somewhere and feel free of the influences of popular culture, you probably decided to become a vegan goat-herder because there were some things that you wanted to avoid.

What do those brochures tell us about life and success for young people?

In our 20s, it is a picture of a young professional in a sharply tailored suit, living in a nice flat with just enough work/life balance to swing a big promotion and also have fun and wild evenings out on the town.  Or, maybe it’s the young 20something gazing over a backpacked shoulder, unattached and carefree as they survey the summit they are about to climb.  I’m not quite sure how one manages the round-the-world backpacking trot while also holding down a fascinating, amply paid position at a top business firm, but that’s just what the doctor ordered, apparently.  (If you figure that one out, gentle reader, do let me know.)  Oh, and don’t forget to pick up a spouse and a killer wedding on the way home from work.  You’ll need one of those to accompany you into the next decade for sure.

In our 30s, babies abound.  They are beautiful and picture-perfect, never pruny or red or diaper-rashed.  The spouse, if pictured, is always trim, tan, and smiling.  There’s a house with a nice yard and big trees.  Maybe the brochure just displays an image of a flawless, serene-looking mom holding a steamy cup of a tasty beverage, her perfect family shown just out of focus over her left shoulder.  Even if you squint, you are sure not to see any goldfish crushed into the carpet.  No one is peeing in the corner, fishing in the aquarium, or trying to plant flowers in the toilet.  Everything is perfect.

The problem

I know you’ve seen these ads.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the impact of these brochures—what it means for the up-and-coming generation, how it seems to families in the thick of things and struggling.  I wonder how it feels for the square pegs, and the young adults in the thick of a quarter-life crisis.

We aren’t confused about what is expected of us.  Ask anyone what they “should” be doing differently with their life and you’ll probably get a long list.  They know their “short-comings.”

The problem isn’t that there’s confusion or ambiguity about what we are supposed to do.  Rather, the problem comes when these guidelines don’t line up with our own ambitions, or they don’t make room for our own edits.  The problem is when we are guilted and shamed for taking a different path, or embarrassed when we do all the “right” things and still find that we struggle.

We can end up feeling like the town pariah if we aren’t quite sure how to bring our ambitions into focus fast enough or—god forbid—if we lack ambitions.  Perhaps you just want to be left alone, to explore a modest and comfortable life on your own terms.  Maybe these idealized images appeal to you, but your life has a difference pace to it or things happened in a different sequence for you.  Perhaps you needed a do-over or two, but you’ve been made to feel ashamed of that.

Most of us don’t have the money to fund life on a private island, where we can escape the influence of these images and expectations.  So, all you mainland dwellers, if you’re feeling confused, grumpy or frustrated that life isn’t shaping up to look at all like that glossy brochure you’ve been handed for years and years, take heart.  You’re not alone, and brochures are two dimensional pieces of cardboard.  Your life holds a richness all its own, whether it is reflected in a unique passion or calling, a keen talent, or simply a quiet satisfaction and contentment.

Not measuring up

So many people think they’re not measuring up.  This is why I harp so much on the idea of being authentic and honest with loved ones, when possible.  If we knew more about the hardships others were facing, we would be kinder with ourselves and others.  We wouldn’t feel so alone.

Instead, we fear that we’re somehow lacking.  So, we work hard at keeping up appearances, minimize our doubts, and keep our worries to ourselves.  The lid stays on until the witching hour when, in the wee hours of the morning, we study the dimly lit ceiling of the bedroom and feel worried and very much alone about where we are fitting in with the cosmic plan.

“I think I was left out of the original draft,” you think.  “This isn’t how things were supposed to happen.  Somewhere, somehow, someone missed an important memo.”

Room for improvement

“When at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.”  That’s a nice adage, but I think we’ve taken it too much to heart.  If you always feel like you’re not quite measuring up, what happens?

Over time, you’ll treat yourself like a perpetual home improvement project.

“Now I just need to lose 10 pounds.”

“I need to feel more compassionate.”

“More time with friends and family.”

“I’ll get to take that trip when…”

“I will be happy once I…”

We defer happiness, thinking that it’s something we will get to once we finish up the items on our to-do lists, or once we get the big picture sorted out about what we’re meant to do, or who we are meant to be with.

A rusted teaspoon

We are measuring our lives with broken implements. The methodologies of past generations do not hold here.  Life is different, now.

Fewer and fewer people are getting married, and couples are deferring the age at which they first wed.  More and more couples are childfree by choice.  The number of jobs held in a lifetime is climbing: no one’s getting a nice pen or pension for 35 years of service at a single company anymore.  There are mompreneurs and stay-at-home dads and home offices.

But, even within the confines of modern culture, the inner workings of your neighbors, classmates, or best friend need not apply when it comes to measuring the breadth of your life.

You have your own rhythms, preferences, and meanings, suited just for you, and they don’t need to be reupholstered or renovated.

I hope you can take this to heart and truly feel acceptance for where you are in this moment.  If you find that you’ve tried to feel at peace with where and who you are, and  something still isn’t working, ask for help.

Next week, we’ll talk about some of the biggest myths about a few of life’s most common milestones and how to cope when our life doesn’t map nicely onto the “supposed-to’s” we keep hearing about each day.