Mari Andrew - Am I there yet?: the loop-de-loop zig zagging journey to adulthood

First published in Australia and New Zealand by Allen & Unwin in 2018 First published in the United States in 2018 by Crown Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC.

This edition published by arrangement with Clarkson Potter/Publishers, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC

Copyright Mari Andrew, 2018

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or 10 per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to the Copyright Agency (Australia) under the Act.

Allen & Unwin

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ISBN 978 1 76052 790 7

Book and jacket design by Danielle Deschenes

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In the journey to adulthood, you can use an old guidebook that belonged to your parents, hitting up the same monuments they did when they took the trip. Its probably the only map you have lying around, and it seemed to get them there, even though their lives arent necessarily what youd create for yourself. Their worn-out map probably points to a specific route, to achievements by certain ages, to designated stops along the way. This map shows a paved road, the safe way.

But what if nobody gave you a map? Or what if the typical route doesnt do it for you? You might choose something else: to make your own way. Your road might be one that cuts through off-limits industrial areas, shakes up residential neighborhoods, basks in peaceful parks, and ascends treacherous mountains. The road might feel crooked and long while youre on itperhaps you even create detours for yourself that prolong the journey, putting you far behind your friends. Am I doing this right?, you might ask, while everybody else is drinking cocktails while they watch the sunset. Its interesting (or at least thats how your parents might describe it), but there are a lot of scary and unphotogenic parts, too.

On my way to adulthood, I have made many loops, zigzags, stops, and detoursmy map resembles a tangled string. I often wondered if it was leading me deep into a dark forest that would permanently take me off the right pathor worse, leading me nowhere at all.

Looking back, its clear that the loops, zigzags, stops, and detours didnt take me off course; they pushed me forward. The twisted road began to smooth out when I became an illustrator at age twenty-eight. Doodling on notebook margins and playing around with lettering had always made me happy, but in my late twenties, I got serious about happiness. I was grieving the death of my father and the end of a serious relationship at the same time. I realized it was up to me to put more joy into my life, which started with my daily routine. So I put happiness on my calendar: Id draw one illustration every day for a year. I bought some cheap supplies, started a new Instagram account to keep myself accountable, and began posting drawings that revealed what I was going through: online dating, new jobs, heartbreak, observations about dining with my girlfriends. After a few months of spending my evenings processing what had happened that day with a pen and watercolor paints, a lot of strangers started seeing my daily illustrations. Theyd even call my drawings relatable, which made me realize that were all a lot less alone than we think we are.

Suddenly, my bumpy road toward adulthood turned into a sensical map. It began in Chicago, where I went to college and experienced the angst of trying to identify my perfect career track. In my mid-twenties I moved to Washington, D.C., where I found a job I liked, at least, and much more than that through a series of romantic wrong turns and dead ends caused by grief and disappointment. Over the years, I have taken myself on adventures around the world, to Berlin, Lisbon, Rio de Janiero, and then Granada, picking up lessons that continued to push me in surprising directions. I drew all these lessons, confusions, and adventures, and found a whole tribe of people from all over the world who were on similarly squiggly paths.

The essays in this book are notes from the scenic route to adulthood that give some background to the illustrations inspired by love, friendship, home, career, heartbreak, and self-discovery. They wont take you directly from Point A to Point B, but rather hop around my own personal map to share with you what Ive learned from these different areas of growing up.

This is not a handy guidebook that will tell you how to find your dream job or how to neatly fold a fitted sheet (the latter is impossible). But its a scrapbook of my own journeyso farto adulthood that I hope will bring you comfort if you, too, are on a less-than-direct journey through life. As I made my way through my twenties, other peoples tales were guiding lights for me. Every feeling I ever had of me too lit up the mysterious path before me, making it not so scary. I wrote this book in the hope that a me too feeling might light up your own trail.

When I was twenty-four, I was working at an oppressive law firm in Chicago. I had many jobs around that city in my early twenties, but this one in all its seriousness seemed more finite. After I had worked there only a few weeks, the days felt meaningless and unendinglike I had signed my life away to this job. My friend told me with compassion and exasperation, This isnt your whole life. This is a season in your life. In a couple of years, well say Remember that weird time you worked at a law firm?