That sandbox we females are forced to play in - unless we checked out in early adulthood - is being a woman in her 20s. That isn't pretty or easy, not for Millennial Hannah Horvath on "Girls" and it wasn't for us Baby Boomers. Because the task of trying to grow up is so demanding and brutal it isn't that we are self-absorbed by inclination. It's more than we don't have the emotional energy to focus on anything but ourselves.
The good news is that it does get better. After the Class of 1967 left then all women's Catholic college Seton Hill, Greensburg, Pennsylvania, most of us were un-moored. The birth control pill, the second wave of feminism, affluence, and political activism had become mainstream. We were caught between the past we had been conditioned to revere as tradition and the present we were being cattle-prodded to get our arms around.
A doctoral student at the University of Michigan, I kept running back to the Greensburg sandbox where a number of my former school chums were struggling to build their lives. I also took pilgrimages to outliers like Reading and Indiana, PA. The pain was palpable. But so was the growth.
As they say, I never want to go through my 20s again. Currently, we who might have become stuck as a lost generation have found each other again and enjoy the pooled memory bank, wisdom, and affection. Thanks to Facebook, Lee Harrison, Charlotte Toal, Irene Nunn, other members of the Class of '67, and I have gone from wary to relaxed to involved with each others' activities. Harrsion and her husband Ed just relocated their business from the midwest to the south. Toal's daughter Julia has become engaged to Gabe. And Nunn, a creative like myself, shares with me the determination never to retirue.
The amazing thing is that we have nothing to prove. Whatever Hannah bad times we had endured have been sorted out. And that is that.