Caught Up In The Rapture: The Paradox of Young Adulthood
Timestamp: August 8, 2018
I’ve heard it said that at any given moment we are simultaneously the youngest we’ll ever be and the oldest we’ve ever been. We hold, within our body, this paradox. It’s inescapable. Although we may wish to be younger or older than we are, for one reason or another, we can’t be. We are the youngest we’ll ever be and the oldest we’ve ever been.
I think this paradox, this notion of being both young and old, perfectly describes young adulthood, or at least my experience of it. As a twenty-one-year-old college graduate living on his own for the first time, I feel old―and it’s freaky.
When I was a kid, I didn’t think I would make it this far. I didn’t plan on dying or anything like that. I just couldn’t imagine being an adult; it wasn’t in my mental vocabulary, so to speak. Even as I aged and grew familiar with the jargon of adulthood (bills, insurance, hidden fees), I still couldn’t place myself within it. It was something my parents did — not me. I would never do it. Somehow, I would be so good at hiding it wouldn’t find me. I would simply stay young enough to be cared for and old enough to be free. That was the plan…until it wasn’t.
In the end, adulthood turned out to be much better at hide-and-go-seek than I thought it would be. It found me, and my life now bears all the markers of adulthood: I write checks. I pay bills. I get excited over coupons. I feel as old as I’ve ever been.
Then again, this doesn’t quite tell the full story.
My life also bears the fingerprints of youth: I’ve never been kissed. I have yet to fall in love. I still ask my parents questions like, “Is it normal to pay that much for internet?” And, more than anything, I’m still trying to figure out how to spell purpose using the letters of my life. I feel as young as I’ll ever be.
In this season, I’m living in the tension between these two realities — young and adult. And because something keeps telling me I’m going to be here for a while, I’m doing my best to build a good home at this address. I’m learning how to be okay with buying groceries one moment and pondering what having a girlfriend will feel like the next. I’m trying to hold the spontaneity of my youth and the predictability of my adulthood together in one hand. I’m giving myself space to be both experienced and naive, wise and foolish. I don’t always strike the perfect balance, but I’m also working on being kind to myself when that doesn’t happen.
At this point, I’ve only been a true and balanced young adult for a month. Before that, I was far more young than adult. But, now that I’ve occupied both identities more equally, I can say this: To be young and adult is to be caught up in the rapture of a glorious tension. We are a living, breathing paradox — a walking enigma. We are as old as we’ve ever been and as young as we’ll ever be. And that is a beautiful state of being that should never be rushed or wished away.
It should be savored — like good cheese.
Excerpted from Timestamp: Musings of an Introverted Black Boy published by Post Hill Press on September 17, 2019. Copyright © 2019 Marcus Granderson
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