Ken Lowery
It’s me—that is, it’s you, about thirteen years into the future. You have a great job that you love, you’re happily married, and Bean is still the same cat that she was thirteen years ago. A black guy is president, and you voted for him. Craziest of all, you’re internet famous—at least among a certain subset of professional word-fanciers and grammar pedants.
Now that I’ve blown your mind, let’s get down to brass tacks: You’re on your way to a major, depression-fueled meltdown. Some of that will be driven by simple, treatable biology; the rest, I’m sorry to say, has to do with some unhealthy notions you’ve got about what it means to be an adult.
The good news is that with a whole lot of therapy and some supernaturally wonderful friends and family, you will make it through to the other side. The bad news is that your unhealthy notions about adulthood still cast a shadow over everything you say and do.
Here’s the source of your problems, in a nutshell: You believe that if you make it through high school, get into a good college (doesn’t matter which one), and get your degree (likewise doesn’t matter), you will then “grow up”—which to you means simply going through a kind of ceremony (after which—presto, you’re mature), instead of actually evolving. Then, once you’re among the ranks of the Mature Adults, you imagine that you’ll know, more or less, exactly what to do for the rest of your time on earth.
This notion of life lived on autopilot seems like bliss to you, because it means an end to the struggle, an end to doubt. You will no longer cut classes or skip out on work for no reason. You will no longer stay up till 4:00 am and sleep in until 3:00 pm because you can’t think of anything else to do. You will no longer respond to that beast of a question, “How are you feeling?” with your usual “I don’t know,” because your complete inability to articulate what goes on in your head will no longer matter.
This is a childlike vision of happiness, but it’s also a vision of oblivion. In this vision, happiness means no longer having to think about, question, or make a decision about anything ever again.
Two things: One, outside of an airplane, there is no such thing as autopilot. All the other adults are making this shit up as they go along. They’re winging it. The advice you’ve received from your elders and betters has helped you through a lot, but guess what: They were winging it, too. Adults and parents do not appear, fully formed, from Central Casting.
Two: The “winging it” stuff is okay. It’s preferable, in fact, to the rosy-tinted nihilism you fantasize about now. Because being an adult means knowing that you’re winging it, and being okay with that. Eventually, you’ll realize this. Eventually, you’ll see that “growing up” is an ongoing process, not a finish line. And you’ll look back on what you’ve accomplished, what you’ve done, and what you’ve simply survived, and you’ll trust yourself to move forward.
Life is full of uncertainty, yes, but art is born out of the same stuff. What you can and will be certain about, however, is that you can handle the uncertainty. That is a real strength
But credit where credit’s due. You did get one thing right: All you have to do is hold on.
Ken Lowery is a co-creator and co-writer of the web television series The Variants, a co-creator of @FakeAPStylebook on Twitter, the editor of the @FakeAPStylebook spinoff book Write More Good (2011), the creator of @FakePewResearch, and just generally a dude who never met an idea he couldn’t turn into a Twitter account. He is also a husband, which is surprising to him, and a copywriter in advertising, which is very surprising to him. Please do not give him more to do.