As I am about to graduate from college and sit in that cap and gown, I cannot help but think about how my mom did the same thing at 22, wore the cap and gown, and was four months pregnant.
I’m stressed just thinking about post-grad. Jobs, cities, leases, and what I’m even doing next. I can barely decide where I want to live, let alone imagine having a child depending on me. The responsibility feels hard to picture right now.
And for my mom’s and grandmother’s generation, that timeline wasn’t unusual.
Timelines look completely different now. Not just for women, but for everyone. At 22, our parents were thinking about stability. Real jobs, long-term plans, and buying a home. I’m thinking about whether I can afford rent in a city I don’t even live in yet.
I grew up watching rom-coms where women didn’t have everything figured out in their twenties. Carrie Bradshaw is running around New York with no real timeline. Rachel Green was figuring things out as she went. Andy Anderson didn’t meet Ben until late in her career. It made it feel like it was time we could be different than the “high school and college sweetheart” trajectory.
Back then, women were getting married around 20 and men around 22. Now it’s closer to 30. As The Heritage Foundation notes, “In 1960, the median age at first marriage was estimated to be 20.3 for women and 22.8 for men. The Heritage Foundation reported that by 2023, the median age at first marriage had increased for women by 8.1 years and for men by 7.4 years.” This reflects a broader shift in relationships and adulthood. That’s nearly a decade difference. Careers take longer to build. Everything is more expensive. There’s more pressure to understand yourself before committing to someone else.
This shift isn’t just a cultural preference. It shows changes in economics, education, and how long it takes to build stability now. Housing is more expensive, entry-level jobs often require more experience, and many people stay in school longer before they even start building financial independence. The milestones didn’t disappear. Instead, they moved further out of reach for longer.
There is no longer a single point at which we start to become adults. For some, it starts in college, some after multiple degrees, or after going back home, or after years of trying jobs that don’t really go anywhere. There is less sense now of a specific path. From dependent to independent, from student to adult. You don’t have the instant moment where you’re an adult, but you just become an adult over time.
My grandma always tells me to keep going. Be happy by yourself. Enjoy yourself before things get serious. She was 21 with a baby, and one more on the way. She loved her husband, but she also valued her independence and her own career. I’ve always looked up to that. The way she balanced a career and a family without it feeling like she had to choose between them. Now I get it. It’s nice to have time that belongs to you. Time to be a bit selfish. To decide without taking someone else into account. To understand yourself and what you really want.
A lot of that comes from things that weren’t as available before, like birth control, more open conversations around reproductive health, and the ability to plan if and when you want a family. Those shifts have changed what your twenties look like. Time magazine reports that “it has become increasingly common for people to have children later in life for a range of reasons, including concerns about finances and child care, waiting longer to get married or find a partner, and prioritizing education, career, or leisure time during young adulthood.” It’s less about one path and more about how each step can be delayed, rearranged, or spaced out before it has to become permanent. You notice it more in the details of how people are living their twenties now.
My friends are nowhere near becoming wives or mothers. We’re talking about moving to new cities, applying to jobs we’re not even sure we’re qualified for, and saying yes to things just to see what happens. Booking trips we probably shouldn’t be taking and staying in cramped hostels with strangers.
I do want to be a mom someday. I am very excited for that time of my life. Just not right now. I can barely keep a plant alive. The idea of raising a person does not feel realistic at the moment.
I think about my mom a lot when I think about this. The way she stepped into that role so young. The strength it must have taken to handle something that feels completely out of reach for me with so much normalcy.
I have a lot of respect for that version of 22.
At the same time, I’m learning to respect our own versions too.
They were buying houses. I’m buying microwave meals at Trader Joe’s.
They had serious commitments. I’m deciding who to bring to a date party.
They had a plan. I have a notes app full of half-finished ideas.
And both feel normal for 22.
