Wisdom sneaks up on you

We all become our own heroes eventually, even if we don't realize it.

When I was in college, I considered people working full-time jobs old. Anyone with a career was absolutely ancient. Those with children had entered relic-territory. 

At every stage of my life I’ve felt like the kid in the room. Not that I felt compelled to act like it, but by consequence of having an August birthday, I was typically the youngest in all my classes and sports teams. For the first few years in the working world, too, I was often the youngest person in an office that felt a size too big. 

When I turned 28 earlier this month, it dawned on me that this was not such a young age. Late-twenties sounds much further along than mid-twenties. Sure it’s all relative — but it’s certainly the oldest I’ve ever been. 

Around my birthday I happened to think about how I mentor a good number of individuals younger than me. It hit me that they must have seen me as “old” for years.  

A few days ago I met with a young reporter who wanted help finding a new job. Mostly, they asked me what I did to secure my first newspaper job, and posed hypotheticals for what I would do if I was in their shoes. We also talked about good and strict editors, how to pitch freelance stories, and what a good cover letter looks like. 

That coffee chat helped me realize that I did have experience to speak from which I did not have before. Not long ago I sat on the other side of the table asking the same questions. Wisdom has a way of sneaking up on you. My guess is that accelerates over time.

To be clear, I don’t feel old. I suspect no one ever does, at any age. I did not feel old when I was teaching English in Hong Kong or backpacking around Southeast Asia, nor did I feel it publishing books. 

Even earning a role as a senior reporter at Business Insider didn’t do it — and that job sounds like an old person’s job. 

All that now feels distant. The accolades of some much younger person. 

Meanwhile, new milestones have piled up with a certain urgency this year. Since January, I’ve won a Fulbright award, quit my job to co-found a media startup (check it out here), launched an events organization for journalists, and moved into an apartment with my partner for the first time. 

This feels like something of a hot streak. Before New Year’s I’ll add a few more items to the list, starting with my media fellowship in Germany in September. Still, taken together, this cements my inkling that I am no longer the kid in the room. That holds a certain gravity. 

And I don’t say this with resignation. I’m extremely grateful for the individuals and responsibilities in my life. A lot of people never get the chance to do interesting work with good people. The fact I’ve made it this far doing that almost exclusively fills me with optimism for what comes next.

Just as 2023 was practice for 2024, this year is practice for whatever I’ll do in 2025. 

I’ve learned that living the dream today mostly comes down to working hard enough to make sure that you in five years is living their dream. It’s a moving target, but it pays better to keep it on your radar than off. 

Another way of saying this: With some effort, we can all become our own heroes eventually. 

Just with a little more back aches and gray hairs than we thought.