I grew up with a Wonder Woman mom and a Superman dad. Don’t most kids think that about their parents when they’re growing up? I think we all muse at their indefatigability, their omnipotence, their awesome curveball, or their way of making us feel all better when the whole world is falling apart. And then, as we grow up, the cracks begin to show. The magic wears off almost overnight, and we start seeing these gods as demigods, and then as humans, and then as Lilliputians. And also overnight, we ourselves are overcome by hubris. Suddenly, we don’t need them anymore. Suddenly, we know better. We need to make our own mistakes to learn. We are adults; we can do whatever we want. We need to just have some space, some freedom, to stop being muffled, to have our own voice. Has this started sounding familiar?

Well, I’m no stranger to it myself. But I’m also no stranger to feeling the sort of fear, financial insecurity, and apprehension for the future that makes you want to curl up into the fetal position and head back into the womb. “Mama?!” You coo playfully, all wide eyed and innocent. And she takes you back into her arms and tells you everything will be alright. Except you’re well into adulthood and you should already have your shit together, right?

Well, kinda. Our generation…the millennials, if you will…are infamous for having the longest trajectory into adulthood. By 25, a man in the 60s would have finished school, been working for a few years, been married for a few more, and would have about 1.5 kids. By the same age, a woman would be on the receiving end of those accomplishments. Plus, all of a sudden, she had the opportunities for a career herself. I mean, you’ve watched Mad Men…put it together.

In the year 2013, most twenty-five year olds are off traveling the world, finding themselves, taking the stock photo at Machu Picchu, or one holding an African baby, or wearing a hijab while in the Middle East. The caption would undoubtedly alert the reader to the atrocious human rights violations in these countries. Or the poverty. Or the delicious fried guinea pig delicacy called “cui” that they had tried. Captions in reverse respective order. 

Not only that, but the mention of marriage anywhere before the age of 25 is enough to make anyone, man and woman alike, run for the hills. Oh, and divorce? The easy solution to any marriage problem is only one signature and half of everything you own away. Which is why, if you ain’t no punk, holla “We want prenup.” Don’t end up the protagonist of a Kanye West song.

But tragically, all of us sort of end up thinking that we’re the voice of a generation. That we’re just like Marnie or Hannah. That this prolonged indulgence into semi-adulthood is somewhat justified by something or other. So we end up where, just a few years ago, we swore we would never be: living with the folks, or at least mooching off of them for some ungodly monthly sum of money that you, my dear, don’t deserve. Your parents legally owed you something until you were 18. Now, you are a free agent. Freely unemployed or underemployed. And freely homeless if you don’t get your shit together. 

This phenomenon is just as much encouraged by coddled children as it is by coddling parents. I recently got into a conversation with a guy at the airport who told me that he was going to Malta to keep his oldest daughter, now 27, under control because her spending was just bleeding him dry. She didn’t have a job, had barely finished school, and was essentially a walking Chanel ad. When I told him that I’d paid for both my undergrad and JD degrees myself, that I’d only borrowed money from my folks twice, and both times I’d felt soulless and ashamed, and that I’d been looking for a job for the past three months, day in and day out, full-time, he stared at me, mouth agape. He just couldn’t understand it. And that’s where the problem lies. My parents command nothing but respect from me. Respect for their hard work, for their successes as individuals and as parents, and for their support and love. It’s never been conditional, but I’ve always known that once I’m an adult, I have to eliminate the idea of a parental safety net. 

So realize that these years of college are your years to explore and do everything you want. And realize that once they’re finished, you’re responsible for yourself. Your mistakes are your own. And Superman and Wonder Woman won’t come to the rescue because they’ve been saving up for retirement and god damn it, they deserve a vacation.
 
 – Helena B. 

Thoughts? Send me an email at helena@studentinternnetwork.com
 
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