When Did Adulting Start Involving Wills?!
There are certain moments in life when you suddenly realise: Oh. I’m the adult now.
For me, one of those moments wasn’t getting a mortgage or finally learning how to descale the kettle — it was sitting down to “sort my life admin out,” after becoming full time self employed and realising that included words like life insurance, income protection, and wills.
Nothing quite says grown-up like asking yourself:
What happens if I get seriously ill? Or die? Or we all die? And who’s responsible for the baby?
So cheerful! So fun! So absolutely not what I thought adulthood would entail when I was younger and assumed adulting mainly meant choosing matching towels and remembering to tax my car.
Future Kindness (Even When It Feels Grim)
Here’s the thing: as bleak as those conversations can feel, they’re actually an enormous kindness to your future self and to the people you love most.
It’s labour-intensive and occasionally uncomfortable. It means gathering paperwork, having fairly morbid chats, thinking about money, values, guardianship, logistics and family dynamics. It’s not exactly a spa day. And yet… doing the hard stuff now removes enormous layers of stress if life ever throws one of those worst-case curveballs.
Because imagine — and I know parents especially do imagine — the unimaginable.
Losing a partner. Losing both parents. Losing a child. Becoming seriously ill.
How would you cope? What would life look like? Who steps in? Who pays for what? Who raises your baby? What did you want to happen? What did they?
Most of us instinctively avoid these questions because the emotional load is huge. They bring up fear, grief, identity, responsibility and love all at once. No wonder we procrastinate.
Parenthood: The Catalyst for Sorting Your Sh*t Out
For me, becoming a parent was the thing that tipped the scales. Suddenly, I’m no longer just responsible for myself — I’m responsible for an entire tiny human whose survival and wellbeing depends on me.
It’s not just “What if I’m not around?”
It’s, “What world do I want for them if I’m not around?”
Those are two completely different questions, and the parent version will emotionally drop-kick you into adulthood faster than any council tax bill ever could.
And honestly? As dramatic as that sounds, it’s also what finally pushed me to stop pretending life admin could be handled by “future me,” who — spoiler — is always just as busy and always just as reluctant.
The Awkward Conversations We’d Rather Avoid
Once you get into it, there’s both the emotional stuff and the practical stuff. Wills. Guardianship. Power of attorney. Beneficiaries. Premiums. Critical illness. Savings. Support networks. The spreadsheets of it all.
Then the slightly morbid chats with family or partners:
“If I die first, do this.”
“If we both go, who’s on baby duty?”
“Do you think someone would actually volunteer for that?”
“Do we need to bribe them?”
Not the dinner conversation any of us fantasised about as teenagers.
But here’s the truth: these conversations bring clarity, intimacy, and a surprising level of relief. They force us to say out loud what we hope never happens — and make a plan anyway. That’s care. That’s love.
Get Help — From Someone Who Speaks Human
The other revelation was realising you don’t actually have to do it all solo.
There are professionals who genuinely get it, who don’t talk in jargon, who don’t try to upsell you into oblivion, and who actually listen to what matters to your family.
For me, that was Andrew Russell — The Protection Guy. No financial ties here, just a genuinely useful and grounded human who takes the financial trickery, head-scratching jargon and headache-inducing “but what does this even mean?” out of the whole process. Other advisers exist, of course — the point is finding someone who speaks human, not spreadsheet.
That alone makes adulting about 70% less horrific.
In the End, It’s About Care
Sorting life insurance, income protection, wills, power of attorney and all the other life-admin-unicorns isn’t just practical — it’s emotional stewardship. It’s thinking ahead for the people you love and for the person you might one day be.
It might feel heavy, uncomfortable and wildly unsexy, but it’s one of the most self-compassionate things we can do as adults. It’s future-proofing not against bad things, but against chaos, confusion, and crisis.
And in a very real way, it’s saying:
“If the worst happens, I want life to be kinder for the people I love.”
Which, honestly, is the most grown-up sentence I’ve ever written.
