Recently I’ve started to cringe any time I see multiple people post the same article about 20-somethings.
I’m 22, (born in 1991 for those of you who struggle with the
math). I’m solidly a Millennial. And I’m starting to think there’s something
wrong with me, because I. Am. So. HAPPY.
And I’m single.
And I have an entry-level job making about half of the
average salary in Ohio (I am in journalism, after all).
And I’m extremely ambitious and driven.
And apparently, according to the articles floating around, like this one,
this combination should make me UNHAPPY and frustrated with my life because, as
a Millennial, or Generation Y’er, or a GYPSY or whatever they’re calling us
now, I can’t possibly have achieved happiness at 22.
I feel like I have some ‘splaining to do, because I definitely
don’t identify as a GYPSY, which if you haven’t read the article, stands for Gen Y
Protagonists & Special Yuppies, and I wouldn’t classify any of my
friends as one either. But to avoid writing another post over-generalizing
about Millennials, let me make the disclaimer that this is my experience, and
my observation of the experience of the vast majority of my closest friends in
Dayton and from UNC.
The main premise of this article follows an equation my
favorite high school literature teacher introduced me to when I was 16: Happiness
= expectations – reality.
To sum up the article, it basically says Millennials are
unhappy because previous generations put so much pressure on them to have great
careers and be happy that they had GREAT EXPECTATIONS for their 20s, and they're also inherently self-absorbed and think the world revolves around giving them a great life. And then
when a tough economy made finding the most amazing job ever right out of
college a little tough, REALITY smacked them in the face and made them UNHAPPY.
So let’s break this down.
I was raised with a strong work ethic, meaning I knew that
anything valuable in life would take work. I’ve never felt entitled to
anything. I was responsible for paying for 100 percent of my college expenses,
so I picked the college that was cheapest and closest to home, but offered a
major I was reasonably interested in. My EXPECTATION for life after college was
that I would get some kind of 9ish to 5ish job in the field I majored in, find
hobbies and interests to fill my free time, and make friends who would help me
enjoy every minute of life. I knew it would take hard work and relentless
networking, on both the professional and friendship sides, but I knew it would
pay off sooner or later.
A few months into college, I realized just how competitive
the job market is in journalism, and that it takes multiple top-quality
internships to land a solid journalism job. So, with the help of excellent
professors and mentors, I made sure that happened. I accepted the first job I
was offered, even though it meant moving 500 miles away from home to a city
where I knew no one, because as a recent grad in a tough job market, I wasn’t
about to be picky when offered a job in my chosen career field.
So guess what, the REALITY is, I have an entry-level 9-to-5
job that pays the bills and buys the beer, and I discovered a love for Ultimate
Frisbee, through which I made awesome friends.
End result? I’ve never been HAPPIER.
But it’s not because I set low expectations for myself, and
neither is it because I live a charmed life.
I have high standards for myself, and I am highly
competitive. So no, I have not achieved everything I want in life. I certainly
want to work my way up within my company, but I understand that takes time
developing a solid track record. Unlike this article implies about me as a 20-something, I already understand that it takes several years to master a job, and that
unless you’re absolutely miserable, you should stick a job out for a few years
at a minimum. I’ve been at my job just over a year and I am still learning so
much each month, because my ego, even though it is in the healthy to slightly
overweight range, is not big enough to think I could master a centuries-old profession
in just a year.
Another article that riled me up recently was this one about questions I should ask myself in my 20s, and while some of them could be valid
points for some people, I could barely keep reading after the first one: "Do the people I’m surrounded by
bring me life?", which went on to ask …
“Are your friends
taking steps forward or are they still playing beer pong in the basement??"
And my answer to the author is heck yes! My friends bring me
so much life it blows my mind, and after spending a weekend with them, I have
to go run laps around a track to sort out all the fun and file it away for
future grins and giggles. My friends, many of whom I’ve met in the last year
through Ultimate Frisbee, have great careers or are headed for great careers –
engineers, teachers, nurses, wedding photographers, social workers,… you name it. And yet we still
get together and play beer pong in my basement, or any number of Frisbee games,
and go to trivia nights, and go dancing on the weekends and generally live life
with so much gusto and passion and care for each other that we don’t need to
constantly abuse the phrase ‘I love you’ because it’s so already patently
obvious that we do.
I don’t think there’s a one-size fits all definition of what
your 20s should be like. I think they should be fun, but I’m planning on having
fun in my 30s, and 40s, and 50s, and 60s and so on until I have a heart attack
in the middle of doing something awesome. I think you should set realistic goals
for yourself and try to achieve them, but again, goal setting is a great idea
for any time in life. I think you should expect to fail at a good 50 percent of
the things you try, but you should never give up on yourself.
I’m writing this mostly because I think the articles
floating around about 20-somethings do more harm than good. They mischaracterize my generation, add extra
anxiety to college seniors and new grads, and give people an excuse to stay
unhappy. They can make life after college sound depressing, which, as I
approached graduation, I had some concerns about as well. But let me tell you
something: I have the #firstworldproblem of often wondering, as the breath
catches in my throat in panic, if life is only going to be downhill from here
because I can’t imagine how it could get any better than this. Sometimes this
feeling strikes when I’m in the shower, with You Make My Dreams by Hall and
Oates blasting out of my iPhone speakers, or I’m celebrating an amazing play on
the Frisbee field, or I’m helping mount a dart board in my friend’s apartment,
or making new friends at a concert, or getting to know my teammates at a
tournament. And sometimes it’s literally standing on a mountain top, but the
point is, life is as fun as you make it. To any college seniors wondering what
post-college life is like, here’s an example of the average day in the life of
Olivia:
Yesterday, I got picked up from work by a friend who’s a
senior at UD, and in true college-budget fashion we hit up a downtown
restaurant that is celebrating its 30 year anniversary by offering free pizza
(with the purchase of a drink). After I stole all the corner pieces from all
the pizzas – they’re so tiny and crunchy! – we met another 20-something friend at
our favorite thrift and had a heyday with 25-percent-off-Mondays. We followed
it up with $1.25 milkshakes from my favorite ghetto ice cream shop, where the
solo staffer already knows my order – a kids’ size peanut butter shake – after my
two trips there in the last five days. Then I came home and attempted to pack two
weeks’ worth of supplies for my upcoming two week backpacking trip to the British
Isles into a bag weighing less than 20 pounds.
And this isn’t even the highlight reel of my life. That’s
just an average night. Today I went kayaking with my Little Sister at a free
city parks event, followed by boxing in the grungiest, but most hardcore
downtown gym with awesome people who keep me laughing and inspire me constantly,
even while the sweat pouring off my body forms a mini lake on the concrete
floor. On Wednesday, I’m going to meet with an ambitious group of young
professionals who are passionate about downtown to discuss our plan to create
more awareness of healthy, fresh food options near downtown Dayton, and I might
throw in some intramural volleyball afterward, or some $2 wine tastings.
I realize that I am
incredibly blessed. And I’m so thankful.
But also, I’m so tired of being told why I should be unhappy
with my life. One of my biggest beefs with Christianity right now is how it
trains you to be disappointed in yourself, by constantly reminding you of your
shortcomings. Instead of inspiring you to go out and make more laughs and
smiles, super ‘convicting’ sermons point out yet another area of your life
where you’re messing it all up. And yes, sometimes you need to be called out
for stuff, but that’s what good friends, on a one-on-one basis, are for,
because more often than not those talks create unnecessary worry and anxiety in
hearts that are already just trying to bring as much joy to the world as
possible.
So to those 20-somethings out there who aren’t enjoying the
wonderful gift that is your twenties and everything that comes with that, whether
it’s the flexibility of not having dependents, the strength and agility of
youth, the excitement of new responsibilities and learning as much as you can
in a new job, the freedom from homework for the first time in 16 years, or what
have you, please stop reading these articles that are just encouraging you to
stay stuck in a rut of unhappiness.
Because your happiness isn’t based on your circumstances, or
other people’s expectations for you. It’s not based on how your reality shapes
up to someone else’s reality, or how it shapes up to what you expected. It’s
based on what you make of your REALITY.
So please, go out and make as many people smile and laugh as
you possibly can, and remind yourself that life only gets better from here.
Good words to start the day, and after having read (at least one) of those unhappy articles I'm glad you're on the right path. Also rock climbing performs well on the fun per dollar analysis
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