Seeking Solutions
I was a high-achieving kid. Why am I flailing as an adult?
By Maura Judkis The Washington Post
Published July 17, 2026
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Dear Seeking Solutions: I did the thing where I was a super competent child/young adult and have now found myself in adulthood trying to figure out what it's all for. I feel like I'm the only reason my parents aren't divorced (maybe a bad thing), I've never been in a romantic relationship, and while I love my job it's not enough. I do also have friends and hobbies.
For so long I was focused on getting into college and getting a good job. Without those goalposts I feel a bit lost. I had a brush with depression this past winter and am in therapy now. I keep saying I feel like I'm doing all the things. But it's a weird identity shift/deconstruction of going from the kid who planned it all to the adult who isn't really sure it's worth it. Is it just a matter of making new goals? Life feels long and pointless.
— Was It Worth It?
Was It Worth It?: If we're lucky, life is long. And, on some vast, cosmic level, maybe it is pointless. But our life's work is to find meaning in it, somehow.
My sense from reading your letter is that you need a quest. You are a person who has excelled at making and achieving your goals, and now you've run out of goals. But a quest is different from a goal: A quest is the work of a lifetime. So, for now, your quest is to figure out what your quest is, before the ennui swallows you whole. Is it healing your inner child from your parents' difficult marriage? Perfecting the art of doing or learning something just for the pleasure of it, with no inherent or extrinsic reward? As a former Gifted Kidâ„¢ myself, I know how hard that one can be.
Think of your emotional stability as being supported by a three-legged stool. One leg is your work, and that one seems strong and sturdy. Another leg could be categorized as self, and it's built of the things that keep you going: your physical health (are you exercising? Might help stave off the depression), hobbies, finances, intellectual pursuits, self-care, in whatever shape that takes for you. But the third leg of the stool is your relationships, and that one seems to be the wobbliest.
That leg is built from the people you surround yourself with — your friends, family and broader community — and the ways they make you feel the most alive. How can you fortify it? Maybe that involves trying to wrap your head around all the stuff you picked up from your parents' relationship (your therapist can help with that). Maybe it's gradually trying to make your own family — with a romantic partner, with friends-as-family, with some sort of community you can call your own. Or a community that you serve. It doesn't necessarily require finding The One or relying on your family of origin — the beauty is that you get to decide what shape it takes. But if all three legs aren't stable, the stool topples.
Life is pointless, and absurd, and magical and cruel and edifying and jaw-droppingly beautiful, sometimes all in the same week. And the meaning you're able to construct from that swirl of chance and circumstance and self-determination is up to you. Serving others? Finding love? Making music or art? Something else? Take your time figuring it out. It's not a college application; there is no deadline, no acceptance or rejection letter, no honor roll. Just you, on a quest to figure out your own personal version of the Meaning Of It All.
It's worth it. You will make it worth it.
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