Two of my grandchildren (twins) turned 21 this week. Soon after their birthday event, I saw a man in his mid-40s wearing a T-shirt that read “Adulting is Overrated.” These events made me reflect on the transformative journey to adulthood. When I turned 21, I did not feel like an adult. Even though I graduated from college, had my own apartment, and was paying my bills, I did not consider myself one.
A mysterious transformation known as adulting happens slowly over time. For me, it began when I graduated from Air Force Officer Training and was commissioned as a second lieutenant. The responsibility I was given was both exciting and overwhelming. I knew I was up to the task. I was confident, resilient, and prepared for such a time as this. Now I felt it. I am an adult. This revelation was not accompanied by fanfare, fireworks, or even a certificate of adulthood. I started paying attention to my water intake, the amount of sleep I needed, and being consistent about leaving on time, so I was not late for work. I got annoyed by the silliness of some of my peers who did not take responsibility and kept acting like overgrown eighth graders.
As children, we assume adults possess secret knowledge. They seem confident. They pay bills. They know how taxes work. They probably understand why printers refuse to cooperate. Then we grow up and discover the shocking truth: most adults are simply making educated guesses while hoping nobody notices.
Adulting is not a destination; it is a series of increasingly bizarre responsibilities. One day, you are excited about staying up all night. Next, you are excited about finding a sale on paper towels. You begin to understand why your parents seemed so responsible, saying no to things you thought were so fun and they thought were so risky.
Another watershed moment in my journey toward adulthood was getting married. And… the icing on the cake of adulthood was having babies. Having four babies in six years brought joy and chaos. I discovered, through many sleepless nights, that the clearest sign of adulting is being responsible in moments of chaos.
Consider a family gathering when a smoke detector starts chirping. Everyone complains about the noise, but one brave soul finds a ladder, changes the battery, and restores peace. Adulting isn’t glamorous, but neither is listening to a smoke detector beep every 45 seconds. Sometimes being the adult in the room means handling unexpected crises. A friend locks their keys in the car. Someone misses a flight. The Wi-Fi stops working. While everyone else panics, the adult begins troubleshooting. They may not know the solution right away, but they know panic has never fixed a router. Yet adulting isn’t just about solving problems. It’s also about caring for others. It’s checking in on a friend after a difficult week. It’s bringing soup to someone who’s sick. It’s paying attention, noticing that everyone is tired, and suggesting a break. The adult in the room understands that responsibility includes kindness and action. It’s giving rather than taking, serving rather than being served.
There is humor in this because many adults still feel like children wearing slightly more expensive clothes. We may own homes, lead meetings, or raise families, yet feel oddly unqualified when faced with assembling furniture or understanding health insurance forms. The real lesson of adulting is that being an adult doesn’t mean having all the answers. It means showing up anyway. It means taking responsibility when no one else does. It means helping, organizing, fixing, comforting, and occasionally remembering to schedule the dreaded colonoscopy.
Adulting may be exhausting, confusing, and sometimes ridiculous. But it also shows that people can be counted on. In a world full of uncertainty, being the adult in the room is less about perfection and more about reliability, responsibility, and accountability. This transformation is powerful. Thank God for the adults in the room. joneen@narme.org