My friend Akhila posted this amazing piece from Priya Parker on CNN's Global Public Square (GPS) blog about the pressures Millennials face in making career and life decisions (Millennials Paralyzed By Choice, 3/8/2012). It struck really close to home because a) I have had countless conversations with friends about the Catch 22 that is being a young adult, and b) It was pretty appropriate coming from Akhila because she's beyond badass and I'm jealous of that quality of hers. Parker analyzes a generation that is presented with seemingly limitless possibilities, and yet no decision they make in career or life stands out as that golden ticket or silver bullet to success and happiness. She makes a really astute observation that I have also recognized about how this phenomenon has intensified because of social media.
"But strange anxieties are getting in the way of these ambitions – none more prominently than something called FOMO. It is the “fear of missing out,” and it has been written about by others (including in an article about SXSW last year) as a phenomenon caused by social media. These media show them all the cool places they could be and cool things they could be doing, which always seem better than where they now are. However, my research shows that FOMO is leaking out of the technology realm and becoming a defining ethic of a new generation.
“Am I setting up my adult life to be the way that it could optimally be?” one of my subjects asked aloud, speaking of her general approach to life decisions. This subject explained how FOMO could even invade the pursuit of a spouse: “On the personal side, there’s this fear of ‘Am I committing to the right person?’”
More and more, particularly among those who have yet to make those big life decisions (whom to marry, what kind of job to commit to, where to live), FOMO and FOBO – the “fear of better options” – are causing these young leaders to stand still rather than act. “The way I think about it metaphorically is choosing one door to walk through means all the other doors close, and there’s no ability to return back to that path,” one subject told me. “And so rather than actually go through any doorway, it’s better to stand in the atrium and gaze.”'
I feel intense FOMO every time I look at my friend's Facebook status updates about the amazing mental health work she is doing in Libya. I have not a shred of desire to be in Libya, but I still yearn for that opportunity to do something completely out of the box and exotic, as well as something that makes an impact in the world and on people's lives (as Parker later points to as a career motivation for Millennials). I want lifelong friends in other countries and unforgettable adventures and stories to tell my kids.
But I feel the same FOMO when I see a friend land a job at Google or a fellow PR friend score a major media placement in her work at Ketchum. I have a friend who works at Pixar and another who is a legitimate millionaire for creating an alternative to PayPal-- you think I hold a candle to their accomplishments? I have another friend who, after we went skydiving together for the first time, decided after our experience that he wanted to become a skydive instructor. And he did. My emotions upon seeing these friends' successes range from one part brand-name jealousy to another part envying their direction. I loved living in Spain and learning another language, I loved skydiving and I continue to be an outdoor adrenaline junkie, and I love fashion and writing-- but I chose PR as a career path, so I had to consolidate-- perhaps sacrifice-- some of my career interests in order to concentrate on one. I know that conceivably I could accomplish the same things if maybe I had chosen the right options or opportunities. My boyfriend and I seem to end every roadtrip with a conversation about how our biggest fear is that we won't live up to our potential in life. We want to leave a mark on the world in some way, and we know we have the ability to, but we just don't know if we have the intense, single-minded concentration to get there.
And this is the one thing that Parker fails to mention. When the economy tanked in 2008, a whole generation of YoPros suddenly saw their futures become a little bit dimmer. Studies and news reports flooded our newsfeeds with grim statistics about year-long unemployment spells and the loss of earning potential that we may never recover in our lifetime. YoPros now have to be a lot more careful about plotting career paths because of very real economic realities. We face heavy financial and personal pressures to find jobs, move out of Mom and Dad's place, and pay back thousands of dollars worth of student loans. When we do interview for jobs, employers are looking for candidates who have had a laser-like focus on their career path since the age of 13. They expect you as a candidate to have a relevant major, scores of internships, work experience, your own consulting firm, 12 different social media profiles, and an interactive video resume. They don't look kindly on taking a year off to go teach English in China anymore, dabbling as a whitewater rafting instructor, or switching career paths five or ten years out of college to pursue your dream of being in fashion PR. The harsh reality is that, at least for the time being, the decisions you make in college may determine your future for several years to come, and it will be increasingly difficult to change course, so you have to make the right decisions now.
But this envy simultaneously exists with pride in my nonprofit experience and the accomplishments I've achieved. Two friends and I recently had dinner and one friend raised the topic about how even though she often has fleeting moments of feelings that "the grass is always greener," she knows deep down that she has a good thing going and wonders if she feels like she should rock the boat just because everyone else seems to be doing it. My other friend quickly answered, "If you don't have questions that need answers, don't invent them." For a fleeting moment, I wondered if grad school had been a huge mistake, and I'm sure a lot of other YoPros who went back to school might have the same fear. Was I ambitious, jealous, or just bored when I made the decision to attend school? Is the "Quarter Life Crisis" something that I should look to as an opportunity, or run from as a figment of my imagination? I think a tough lesson our generation is going to have to learn is how to balance ambition and seizing opportunity with being content.
(This could be another post entirely, but Lori Gottlieb does an amazing analysis in The Atlantic about how parents' obsession with making their kids happy may have screwed them up permanently because they are perpetually dissatisfied and constantly seeking a higher benchmark for happiness. How To Land Your Kid in Therapy)
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