“Adulting” Is Actually My Clinical Specialty
My degree is in Clinical Psychology—clinical being the key word. Ironically, when I became a licensed therapist and opened my private practice, answering the simple question “What’s my expertise?” became surprisingly difficult.
Not because I didn’t know, but because my real expertise didn’t sound very clinical.
Most of my clients aren’t coming in to unpack deep trauma every week. They’re asking real, everyday life questions:
How do I balance a demanding job and a gym routine?
How do I date without losing myself?
I’m in college—how do I choose a major?
How do I pivot careers?
Should I buy a new car or keep saving?
In other words: adulting.
Yes—adulting. It’s a thing. That is my expertise, helping people navigate “adulting.”
The Problem With How We View “Adulthood”
In school, I learned that human development has many stages: infant, toddler, child, teen, young adult, mid-adult, aging adult, and so on.
But socially, most people reduce life to three categories:
kid
teen
adult
Once you hit “adult,” you’re expected to somehow know how to manage everything: relationships, finances, jobs, insurance, childcare, grief, identity, health… all without instruction.
But adulthood isn’t one stage—it’s decades of stages. Each decade comes with its own questions, identity shifts, and learning curves.
A Therapist’s View: Adulthood by the Decade
I once laughed (kindly) when a 25-year-old client said she felt like she “should be married by now.” Meanwhile, a client in her early 30s was frustrated that she hadn’t saved more money—despite only entering her first real job last year.
This is what I mean when I say: there is no handbook.
People are graduating later, working full-time later, partnering later. Yet we’re still holding ourselves to outdated timelines.
Here’s what I often hear in therapy across the decades:
Your 20s
“Who am I?”
Your 20s are the tutorial level of adulthood—lots of pressure to perform and impress, and a strong influence from what others expect. You’re defining independence and experimenting with identity.
Your 30s
“Is any of this actually me?”
Your 30s often bring recalibration. You start asking:
Do I like my career?
Do I want to live here?
Am I in relationships that serve me?
Were these choices mine, or assigned?
It’s less about performance and more about authenticity.
Your 40s
“I’m starting to know who I am.”
Speaking for myself, my 40s feel more grounded. Not because I have everything figured out, but because I finally understand no one does. Priorities become clearer. Pressure softens.
50s and Beyond
I can’t speak from experience yet, but clients and mentors in older decades often say the things that once felt life-or-death don’t even register anymore. Perspective becomes a gift.
Curiosity Is Good
As a clinician, I’ve learned this: the presence of questions—whether they come from stress, uncertainty, or genuine curiosity—is a healthy sign.
Curiosity means you’re paying attention.
Curiosity means you’re engaged.
Curiosity means you’re still growing.
The goal isn’t to eliminate questions; it’s to normalize them.
There Has Never Been a Handbook
Humans have always been trying to make sense of life. Every concept we teach or debate gets labeled a theory, which implies we are still figuring it out. No adult is an expert at being an adult.
There is no perfect timeline. There is no universal milestone chart. There is no age where the learning stops.
A Helpful Reframe
One shift I teach in therapy is moving from:
“What should I be doing?”
to
“What can I do?”
It removes the illusion that there’s one “correct” answer and instead focuses on:
what you know now,
the resources you have,
and the next step available to you.
And remember: you can pivot.
If you choose the wrong job, you can leave.
If you choose the wrong major, you can change.
If you choose the wrong city, you can move.
Adults are rarely as stuck as they feel.
The Truth About Adulting
Adulting isn’t about having everything figured out.
Adulting is about managing a lot, learning as you go, and doing your best without a manual.
If you’re asking questions—good. That means you’re alive in your own story.
And if no one has told you this yet:
You’re not behind. You’re just in your decade.