In my last blog post I wrote about the quality of “certainty” – the benefits of being “certain” to having confidence and the benefits of being “uncertain” in terms of a growth mindset.  In the days following this post, I kept reading about this quality and the  consistency in the findings about the differences between males and females.  Research shows a confidence gap, that women not only lack confidence compared to men, but that they will hold themselves back from taking action as a result.

An example of the findings regarding the gender gap in confidence is a series of  studies by Cornell psychologists David Dunning and Joyce Ehringer. After examining women and men’s performances and perceptions in a large number of different ways, they concluded, “Men overestimate their abilities and performance, and women underestimate both.  Their performance however did not differ in quality.” So even though men and women actually score the same, men assume that they did better than they did. Ernesto Rueben, a professor at Columbia, points out that men are not trying to fool anyone, they really believe it. He came up with a  term called, honest overconfidence, backed up by his study in 2011 in which men consistently rated their performance on a set of math problems to be about 30 percent better that it was.

When men  do have self doubt, it is not as repetitive and intense as women and they do not let it stop them as often as women do.  For example, in a study at Columbia Business School, women applied for a promotion only when they met 100 percent of the qualifications, while men applied when they met 50 percent.  Women, on the other hand, tend to paralyze themselves with perfectionism, supported by a large body of research in a number of arenas. We won’t turn in a report, answer a question, or take a risk until we are sure we are perfectly prepared.  Unfortunately, while we strive to be perfect, we miss out on the learning and confidence building we would gain if we tried. In her 2018 study, Kaitlyn Cooper, at Arizona State University, found that women students believed they were far less intelligent than others, even when their grades were equally as good.  She embarked on the study after noticing when advising both male and female students, that female students would frequently say they were “afraid that other students thought that they were stupid. I never heard this from my male students,” she said.

To be honest, I can’t help thinking  about this confidence gap in light of recent political events, and the education of our nation in terms of why women don’t report sexual assault or harassment.   It also struck me in the demeanor of both Judge Kavanaugh and Dr. Blasey Ford in their testimony and I wondered how our differences as men and women not only affect the way we present ourselves, but also in how we perceive one another. If men honestly believe in themselves more than is warranted and are willing to take action based on this, how will they interpret a woman’s hesitancy in speaking out? I think despite our political divide, the courage that it takes for a woman to share her experience, and the respect she deserves when she does, is an area we might all learn to agree on.  

“Are you sure?”  This is a question we get asked or ask ourselves all the time.  How we answer depends not only on the content of the information, but also on our relationship with certainty.  Some people feel quite at home with being certain, while others are more comfortable with a certain amount of self doubt.  How we relate to certainty is an element of our personality that we rarely think about, but it may have a big impact on our well being and on our capacity for change.

Appearing certain gives us an air of confidence, which often attracts other people to us, especially people who are not so sure.  We prefer our leaders to be certain, as it makes us comfortable. But “certainty” can lead to self righteousness. If we believe we already know the right answer, we close ourselves off to new information.  We also tend to rely on stereotypes or assume we know things that may not actually be true. And in a strange way, certainty can lead to insecurity, as we look to affirm our certainty.  In fact, the pursuit of certainty can actually breed more insecurity. Have you ever been tempted to read someone’s e-mail or peak at someone’s phone to “prove” what you “know” is true? Certainty can lead to entitlement, as you feel you deserve to get your way or cheat a little, or that other people deserve to be punished because we are so certain of our right-ness.

Certainty is also the enemy of growth.  The more we can admit to what we don’t know, the more we’re willing to learn.  Uncertainty also allows us to be open to experience. Rather than assuming we know how someone will respond or how things will go, we live with an openness to the present and to newness.  In order to make a change, we have to be able to tolerate possibly being wrong or being in need of a new path. The root of all progress and growth is a willingness to be uncertain and give something new a try.

But there is an opposite extreme to entitled certainty. Some people live their life with a pervasive sense of uncertainty.  They are afraid to know what they know and have difficulty committing to an opinion or action. If we are too identified with our uncertainty, it can paralyze us with self doubt or indecision.  Without some internal sense of what we know to be true, we cannot take a stand or define ourselves.   We are vulnerable to passivity and in letting others dominate us with their agenda.

How we hold our certainty can be an important factor in how we relate to ourselves and the rest of the world. Like holding something delicate, we must do it with care;  firm enough to be a supportive structure of our identity, but gentle enough to allow change and growth. As in most things in life, finding a healthy balance of knowing your truth and being open to new experience is best.  If you are either too certain of your certainess or too certain of of your uncertainness, you will stay stuck.

I had a session with a young man that really touched me this week.  He was driven to our clinic by his boss, who noticed that he was having a hard time.  “Are you ok?” his boss asked. After considering his answer, the young man decided he needed to be honest. A half an hour later he was in my office, sharing with me about the wave of feelings he was experiencing that made him fear he would take his own life.  

It reminded me of a man in a documentary I had seen, regarding suicide prevention. He had miraculously survived jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge.  He shared his story of great ambivalence and pain, standing at the side of the bridge, wondering what to do. He was desperate for a sign of hope. “If anyone reaches out,” he thought at the time, “if anyone asks if I’m ok, I won’t do it.”  Somebody walked up to him and he felt a rush of relief. But instead, they asked if he could take their picture. He did, waited until they had gotten far enough away, and went over the side.

In thinking about both young men, the one in my office and the one on the bridge, it makes me wonder how often there are people around us that just need us to ask them, “Are you ok?”  They may not be suicidal, or in deep distress, but could use a sign that they are not alone. Often, when people feel burdened, they withdraw. Trapped within their own heaviness, they don’t want to be a burden to others.  Yet, most often, they welcome an invitation out of their isolation.

I am grieving my mother’s death and I am often wading through a deep pool of feelings and memories.  It feels good when someone asks me if I’m ok. It is a touchstone and a hand out of my inner world. Depending how I feel, I may share something or simply say I’m fine.  Either way, the gesture is greatly appreciated.

As I write this post I’m in New Jersey, preparing for my Mother’s funeral.  After many years battling Progressive Supranuclear Palsy, she very recently passed away. Fortunately my prayers of late were answered and she died peacefully in her sleep. It is a mix of feelings, as anyone can imagine:  the sadness when I think that I will never again kiss my mother good night, but relief in thinking she will no longer decline. But the one surprise I truly feel is how much it means to me now the relatively short time I spent being her caregiver.  What came about because of misfortune was truly a blessing in disguise.

Shortly after my mother moved to CA permanently, I was laid off from my job when our clinic closed its doors.  I felt lost and that my life was out of control. But then, as I began to put my professional life together with a patchwork of part time jobs, I decided to include a few shifts a week as her caregiver.  For six months, until I was offered something full time, I fed my mother, dressed her, took her shopping, and did her morning and bedtime routine. As clearly I am not a trained professional, it was hard for me.  But I know it must have been even harder for my Mom. I did most things wrong, especially anything involving transferring her and balancing her weight.

But what I think about now that I am so grateful for is the intimacy it provided us.  When you care for someone, even inefficiently, there is a lot of touching. And there is also a lot of vulnerability and a need for trust that is a big responsibility.  Thank God my mother had a great sense of humor and could laugh off most of my errors, overgrinding her meatloaf and overfilling her small mouth. But I was by far the worst at getting her into bed.  In fact, more than a few times I managed to swing her well enough across the bed, but with too much force that I landed smack on top of her. Boy did we laugh.

And that is what makes me smile now and gets the tears flowing.  Although anyone else would have fired me, in fear for their life, my mother loved every minute of it.  And that is what I will miss most about my mother. No one else but your mother thinks your scribbles are art, your mess of words poetry, or the cake you try to bake her a culinary masterpiece.  No one but your mother remembers with such joy when made your first Halloween costume, went on your first date, or walked to the podium to get your diploma. There is love, but now that I am one and no longer have a living one, I absolutely understand there is no purer love than a Mother’s love. 

I love you and miss you already, Mom.  Your memory will always be a blessing.

As I’ve entered my fifties, I notice I’m worrying less and appreciating things quite a bit more. Concern about aging, however, has become a new anxiety, as the stereotypes and social conventions of being “over the hill” creep in.  Will I be lonely, grumpy, or even bitter? Will I feel like a burden and long for my younger days? So I was quite relieved to find a book called The Happiness Curve, which gives me a scholarly foundation of hope that my increasing contentment will most likely be a continuing trajectory, in contrast to my fears of decline.

Author Jonathan Rauch, a Brookings Institute senior fellow and Atlantic contributing editor, reviews a large number of multi-country, big data studies on happiness conducted over the course of the last few decades.  The results, coming from authors in a range of disciplines, including economics, psychology, biology and epidemiology, consistently shows that life satisfaction when graphed across the age span is a U-shape, with contentment high in the 20’s, plunging at mid-life, and rising again after 50.  Most coincidentally, the graph of this phenomena looks like a rye smile. In our youth oriented culture, this comes as a bit of a surprise, and I must admit, a bit of a relief! The notion of a mid-life crisis leading to a slowly diminishing sense of vitality and value is just a myth. Rather than a crisis, most people experience a natural shift away from competitiveness and achievement (which creates the stress of comparing ourselves negatively to others) to more of a relational and compassionate mentality that enables us to feel more connected with the world.  We simply feel happier with who we are and what we have accomplished.

Interestingly, there seems to be a biological component to it.  The same curve appears to be true for apes, according to a fairly large (or what I think is large for an obscure topic of rating the moods of apes as they age) number of biologists and comparative psychologists.  One theory is that while individuals are capable of procreating, it is best for the survival of the species if they are driven and competitive to achieve more status. Once past the age of procreation, it benefits society if older individuals of a group are interested in caretaking and supporting others.

The most interesting part of the book for me is Rauch’s proposal that on a societal level our outdated social conventions need to be updated to reflect the insights and realities of our new understanding of aging.  As people are living longer, there appears to be a new stage of life emerging. Much like when young people began to need longer schooling and more support in becoming an adult in a complex industrial society, the concept of adolescence emerged (with all of the accompanying social supports, such as college, internships, and mentoring), a new stage is also developing that needs attending to.  In fact, it is already becoming noticed, and referred to as Encore Adulthood. Rauch posits that society is starting to respond to the needs and potential of the people in this life stage and develop structures to support them. The AARP in fact has shifted its services to offering “life re-imagined” and career services rather than just renting RVs. And a organization called Encore.org was founded as “an innovative hub tapping the talent of people 50+ as a force of good.”  Check out their site if you have a minute. It is full of great opportunities and even fellowships!

With the notion of the second half of life being a long, slow, downhill slide, we create a fear and disrespect for aging.  We unnecessarily create a script that as we age, our best years are farther and farther behind us. In this way, we are setting a trap in mid-life of feeling gloomy about the future.  While we can’t be sure this will happen for everyone, because it’s based on statistical averages. for the most part, profiles of everyday people around the world chart a return to enjoyment, wisdom and an increase in overall fulfillment once past midlife.  So, rather than imagining our life as a hill we descend after we peak, we can re-imagine it as a smile we get to climb!

We often hear the refrain, “trust your gut.”  Unfortunately, doing so might just increase your gut, literally!  It happened to me this past year when I underestimated the amount of weight I let myself gain, assuming I could judge it by how my clothes felt.  What I didn’t take into account was the clothes I’d avoided because they felt a little snug. Without the reality of stepping on the scale, I could fool myself into believing what I wanted to believe, that it was just a pound or two, which I would easily take off in the following month.  When I finally did step on the scale, it snapped me out of my illusion and taught me a lesson I seem to keep needing to learn. When it comes to judging myself and my habits, I am not terribly accurate.

Then I saw a study in the New York Times last week that made the sting of my misery a little less with company.  It was actually an article about the effects of exercise on weight loss. The researchers in this experiment compared two levels of exercise, one group burning 1500 calories a week and the other 3,000 calories a week.  What they found was that the higher exercise group did lose some weight, but that the lower calorie exercise group did not lose any weight, and some even gained a little! What they also found was that both groups ate more calories as a result of their exercise, about 1,000 extra calories. The difference than being that those who had exercised more had maintained more of the calorie deficit. But what got my attention (and my sympathy) was that each group had no awareness of their extra eating. According to the study, “Their food intake recall did not show differences in how they ate before the study and at the end,” states Kyle Flack, one of the researchers.  He concludes, “I think they just did not realize that they were eating more.”

Apparently our judgment tends to be skewed when it comes to our own perceptions of our behavior and from our desire to look good to ourselves and others. This is actually called “self-reporting bias” in the scientific literature. We tend to under-report behavior deemed negative (unhealthy eating) and over-report behaviors viewed as positive (such as exercise).  In order to compensate for this bias, nutritionists actually have developed a technique to more accurately reflect our eating patterns. It is called the 24 hour dietary recall method. It involves asking a respondent to recall everything they ate within the most recent 24 hours, typically from midnight to midnight.  Then, after the free recall, a structured set of follow up questions prompts the individual’s memory for foods they may have forgotten (the soda after work, the snack after dinner), and for more detailed information about ways in which the food was prepared and portion size. Through this method, much more accurate accounts of people’s food intake is obtained, and often explains why people had not been losing weight or bringing blood sugar levels down.  The only bad news for us at home is, the technique can take as much time as a half an hour!

24-Hour Food Recall Forgotten Foods
There are some foods that people tend to forget they ate.
 Did you have any crackers, breads, rolls, or tortillas that you may have forgotten about?
 How about any hot or cold cereals?
 Cheese added as topping on vegetables or on a sandwich?
 Did you have any chips, candy, nuts, or seeds?
 Fruit eaten with meals or as a snack?
 What about coffee, tea, soft drinks, or juices?
 Any beer, wine, cocktails, brandies, or any other drinks made with liquor that you may have forgotten?

I know, who the heck has that kind of time, let alone patience!  But the lesson for me, in looking into this issue, is the importance of objective tracking and feedback.  There are piles of research showing the inaccuracy of our memories, even for events we swear we could never forget.  So why would it be any different with food? So, if I want to keep from being a victim of my own self report bias, I’m just going to have to get real.  Indeed, I bought a scale and I’m going to remember to use it!

I found a letter on my desk, hidden between a few books.  My younger daughter must have placed it there before she left on a month long science adventure to Greenland (a wonderful opportunity with the NSF, while it still exists, for chosen high school students). The letter was such a sweet surprise and made me so happy to open it, read it, and carry it with me to help when I miss her. I’m rendered oh so sentimental as I review her characteristic loopy a’s and the pinpoint exactness of her dotted i’s.  It makes me feel close to her, even though she is so very far away. It reminded me how seldom we all write letters these days with how convenient it is to text and e-mail. But letters have a historic tradition and offer multiple benefits to both the writer as well as the receiver.

Studies have revealed an association between writing by hand and brain development, increasing neural activity more than typing can.  (This is why it is often better to handwrite things you are trying to learn.) When you write in your own hand, you are more reflective and your words stay stored in your memory.  Letter writing requires sensory integration and visual spatial skills, causing us to think more holistically. Research also shows letter writing, especially when giving thanks or appreciation to someone, actually boosts our mood.  With letters, we can say exactly what we want to say, as we tend to take our time and be more selective in our word choice. It also enhances our sense of intimacy and connection to the people we write to. It is much harder to multi-task while writing a letter, so chances are you will be more focused and give it your full intention, noticing how it looks as well as how it sounds.

For the receiver, a letter carries a lot of weight.  It indicates that someone took the time to take pen to paper, address a letter, affix a stamp and mail it.  There is an authentic feel that has a timeless essence. Compared to a text or e-mail, letters give us something to hold on to and reflect on for years to come.  When someone writes you a letter, you know that you are important to them and the words are more powerful as a result. It is by far more personal and meaningful.  And if you are like me, you have a special box where you place the cards and letters that you cherish. I can rarely think of a time when I placed an e-mail or text in the box!

And then there are the letters you can write, but choose to never send.  Regardless of what you do with it, the act of writing a letter is almost always cathartic.  It helps you get clarity about what you think and feel, vent your emotions, and clarify what is most important to you.  In this way, it can actually help you prepare for a conversation that may be challenging, adjusting your words to express yourself in the most effective way.  

There is something sacred about communicating in the time honored way that generations before us once did. Whether it was a letter from a family member from across the ocean, a love letter to a soldier, or words of encouragement during dark times, letters capture our attention and our imagination.  They are romantic in the broadest sense and give us the smell, the touch, and the artistic sense of someone dear. And from my experience in trying to reach my daughter who is ever so close to the North Pole, if you are trying to reach Santa, you are best off writing a letter.  The internet is not very reliable in the Arctic Circle! Not a lot of bandwith up there.

It happens to a lot of us.  You tell someone you’ll have something done by a certain day, but you’re not able to do it.  Your friend e-mails to remind you, and although you mean to get back to them, you think it’s better to respond after you’ve finished what they asked for, which in your mind will surely be tomorrow.  But tomorrow comes, and the next day, and you just don’t have the time to get to it. And then comes the texts. As you read them you get irritated and more anxious. You wish you never agreed to do the favor in the first place, and resent your friend for harassing you.

Sound familiar?  This is the avoidance trap, and while people rely on it as a coping strategy, it really isn’t coping at all.  In fact, avoidance usually makes things worse and takes a toll on relationships. While it may provide relief in the short term, it’s really just  an illusion and a way of denying what’s really going on – feelings of embarrassment or fears of negative judgments, or even a fear of conflict. And these feelings tend to snowball quickly.  The more you avoid something, the bigger the feelings get around it, both for you not wanting to talk to your friend, and your friend being hurt or annoyed at you for ignoring them. And when avoiding becomes a habit, it tends to erode your self esteem.  You feel embarrassed and often get trapped in all the little lies that often accompany avoidance, such as making excuses, or promises you know you can’t keep. Research shows that avoidance actually magnifies stress as well as increases anxiety.

So when you feel the urge to avoid a phone call or a text, a request or a conversation, take this as a sign.  Ask yourself what you are really avoiding. Is it the fear that you made someone angry or disappointed? Is the project too challenging and you are afraid to ask for help or more time?  If you can identify the source of what is actually troubling you, it helps to sort out how

to approach a more active solution. Once you do, then the next step is to communicate. Often the reaction you get will be far better than you fear. People are usually much more understanding than your own critical voice inside your head and can help be a part of problem solving a solution. And besides, people prefer to know the truth of what is happening, even if it is bad news, than to be ignored!  Quite often, once you share what is going on, you both feel a sense of relief. So the next time you notice yourself hiding out, take it as a sign you need to reach out.

Some changes are tragically permanent.  This past Monday I was asked by my clinic staff to see a patient in crisis.  She had found her teenager, the morning after her high school graduation party, non-responsive in her bed.  She had died by suicide, a lethal dose of pills and alcohol. It was truly one of the most difficult sessions of my life as I tried to offer something to this mother whose life had just instantly come crashing down.  “Why,” she kept asking, or “If only I had…” she kept repeating, hoping to find some way to make sense of her horrific tragedy.  And later in the week, the entire nation is asking similar questions as we read quotes of family and friends “shocked” to learn of the deaths by suicide of Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain. While I certainly don’t have clear answers about why people kill themselves, I talk with people almost every day at work who think about it, either as a vague thought or a well informed plan.  So I thought I would give myself a little time to reflect on this and share some of my thoughts with you.

For most people, no one thing causes them to want to die.  It’s usually an accumulation of a number of factors that wear down their coping and resiliency.  Suicide is seen as a solution, a way of having control over what seems like an impossible situation. People with depression, especially, have very little hope and see the world as it is, and as it always will be, in a negative light.  They usually feel they’ve been a burden to the people that care about them, and that rather than understanding the pain they will cause loved ones, they truly believe that by ending their lives they are doing them a favor. For some, life has been on the edge for a while, putting them at risk for an impulsive act when something further goes wrong, like a drug or alcohol relapse, or the loss of a job or relationship. They may have what feels like unresolveable anger at themselves or the world. Most people who die by suicide don’t tell people about their pain. They are afraid to burden people, or the stigma for reaching out and asking for help is insurmountable in their opinion.  They are afraid of being met with judgment or being seen as fragile or crazy.  This leads to untreated conditions and a growing sense of isolation and despair.

As many of the articles printed this week point out, the rates of suicide are rising in our country.  Every state in our nation saw a rise in suicide rates, according to the CDC, from 1999 to 2016, with as many as 25 states as much as 30%.  In 2016, 45,000 Americans died by suicide, making it the 10th leading cause of death.

Just as there is no one cause of a person’s decision to die by suicide, there is no one answer to how to prevent or address the problem.  Research clearly shows a few possible steps, such as limiting gun access (countries that have done so have seen decreases in suicide rates) and increasing support for housing and medical treatment for pain and substance abuse.  But for each of us, personally, we need to make sure we are reaching out to one another. If we are having thoughts of harming ourselves, we need to let someone know and get help. If we know someone else is hurting, we need to let them know they are important to us and that we will support them in getting treatment and that they are not alone.  When someone is ill, financially stressed, or going through some other difficult time, we can challenge their beliefs about being a burden. While we are not responsible for other people’s choices regarding suicide, and we cannot solve their problems, we can offer perspective and comfort simply by letting them know how important they are to us, and be supportive in the process of getting treatment.  

In my line of work we address suicidal ideation with therapy that addresses risk factors, such as support for losses, financial stress, isolation, and substance abuse, and possible medication for depression.  In addition, we seek to increase what we call the protective factors, such as feeling connected to other people or interests, a sense of purpose, and plans for the future. Most often, the reasons for wanting to die can be ameliorated when a person can talk about what they are feeling and get help in finding potential solutions to what seems like insurmountable problems.  

Talking about suicide does not cause suicide, in fact, research shows the opposite.  When people at risk are able to share their thoughts, the thoughts become less powerful. If someone says something or posts something that makes you concerned, it is best to reach out and ask them directly about it.  I have never heard anyone report that they regretted asking or being asked about suicide. Quite the opposite. Both parties feel a sense of relief. And if you know someone who suffers from the pain of such a personal loss by suicide, it also helps them to reach out.  Even if you don’t know what to say, the simple act of acknowledgment is important in reducing stigma and isolation. While their pain may be overwhelming to both of you, if given the time and support, healing can occur. I can attest from personal experience that while the pain never goes away, you can learn to live with it.  While I cannot bring back the daughter of my patient, as much as I would like to, I can be a source of support and walk beside in her unexpected journey through darkness.

Here are a few resources to make you feel more prepared when reaching out.

In the US:

Crisis Text Line: Text START to 741741 from anywhere in the USA, at any time, about any type of crisis

The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255

The Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386

Outside the US:The International Association for Suicide Prevention lists a number of suicide hotlines by country.

For survivors of suicide loss:  survivingsuicideloss@afsp.org 

The Compassionate Friends at 877-969-0010.

My daughter is home from college (yay) and is going to be 20 this summer (oh my gosh).  She shared with me a conversation she was having with friends and wondered my opinion. “When did you feel like an adult?” she asked.  What a great question, I thought, and have been thinking about it ever since. Her question stirs up a lot for me, about what it means to be an adult and just how that happens.  

My first thought about burgeoning adulthood was that it was when I became financially independent, able to pay all my own bills.  But then I thought about when I became a parent. Having a child and being completely responsible for someone else really made me feel like an adult.  But then as I thought even more about it over the next few days, I realized that I truly, truly felt like an adult after my Father had passed away and my mother became ill.  It was not until I felt like I had no parents to turn to, and instead had to take care of my parent, that I really,really felt like an adult. But even with that, there are still days when I long to be taken care of and hardly feel like an adult at all.

And I know plenty of people who pay their bills, or have children, or who care for a parent that still don’t actually function like adults. In reality, there is no event that makes you an adult, rather it’s the accumulation of psychological growth secondary to  life events that brings maturity. In paying your own bills, you take responsibility for all of your actions and decisions. In having a child, you learn to put aside your own desires for the benefit of another and also learn to trust your own judgment. And then, in taking care of a parent you come to understand the existential paradox of being alone in the world, living our one and only unique life in connection with others.  Life events don’t make us adults, but they offer the opportunities for some kind of growth process.

So what is happening? I think the answer that best describes it is integration.  We all have many parts of ourselves, disparate feelings and needs, desires and identities.  When we can integrate these disparate parts of ourselves, we feel a sense of ownership and responsibility for all of them, finding compromises and balances.  We don’t have to shut out certain parts, or act one way in one area of our lives and a different way in another. We don’t have to blame others, but can accept our mistakes and weaknesses. If we are integrated, we can hold competing wishes, such as wanting to party with needing to get work done, and competing opinions, such as being angry with a partner and still wanting to be faithful to them. Integration is a process that happens over time, that steadily leads to a more and more coherent and comfortable sense of our self. Because we have more of a balance within ourselves, we have a more consistent sense of identity and function as more of a whole, reliable person.

Recently I have heard the term, “adulting”.  According to the Urban Dictionary, “Adulting (v):  to carry out more and more of the duties and responsibilities of fully developed individuals (paying off that credit card debt, settling beef without blasting social media, etc.) “  Both aspects seem right to me. One, that it’s a verb that describes a process, and, two, that it’s moving toward increasingly full development. In other words, we never stop adulting.