Navigating Adulthood with No Roadmap: A First-Gen American Woman’s Journey

There’s no GPS for adulthood—especially when you’re the first one in your family to chart the course. The first-gen American woman journey has been about teaching myself everything and learning how to “figure it out” in real time. From credit scores to cultural identity, there was no instruction manual waiting for me. Just curiosity, resourcefulness, and a relentless drive to build a life better than the one my parents started with.

Growing up, I didn’t have dinner table conversations about investing, credit cards, or climbing the corporate ladder. Instead, I had parents who worked relentlessly just to survive in a country they were still trying to understand—parents who couldn’t offer financial advice but gave me something just as important: grit, perspective, and unconditional support.

Learning to Learn, Even When No One Taught Me

My mindset has always been simple: if I don’t know something, I’ll learn it. I’ve spent hours—honestly, full days—down internet rabbit holes trying to absorb everything from Roth IRAs to which credit cards are best for travel points. I’ve read Personal Finance in Your 20s & 30s for Dummies, Rich Dad Poor Dad, Financial Feminist, and How to Make Your Money Last, not because I had to… but because I had to. There’s a difference.

At 17, I was researching credit cards. On my 18th birthday, I walked into a SunTrust bank and opened my first one. At 19, I was knee-deep in articles about 401(k)s and IRAs, determined to understand retirement plans most adults were still ignoring. And now, after saving for three years, I’m actively navigating the real estate world as I buy my first home. Not bad for someone who started out feeling like she wasn’t even allowed into the financial conversation.

The Power of Self-Education in a World That Assumes You Know the Rules

So much of adulthood is learning things other people take for granted. And when you grow up without a built-in network or inherited knowledge, you have to teach yourself not only the rules, but how the game is played. And if you’re like me—female, first-gen, and often the youngest person in the room—you also have to learn how to belong in rooms that weren’t built with you in mind.

But that’s where first-gens shine: we don’t wait to be handed opportunity. We research it. We plan for it. We build the confidence to take it.

Turning to the People Who Got Me Here—Even If They Don’t Fully Get It

My parents didn’t know about investing or corporate politics or career building in tech. But they knew how to survive, how to rebuild from scratch, and how to love me through every stumble. I still call my mom to talk through my decisions—not because she has all the answers, but because I trust her gut. Sometimes I just need that phantom support, the kind that makes me feel like no matter what happens, I’ll figure it out. I always have.

And when things don’t go as planned (because spoiler alert: they don’t), they’ve always reminded me that failure is part of the process—not a sign that I don’t belong, but a sign that I’m still learning, still growing, still doing something brave.

The In-Between That Becomes Its Own Identity

For a long time, I felt like I was straddling two worlds and not fully belonging in either. I wasn’t “Russian enough” because my grammar slipped as I grew up. I wasn’t “American enough” because I didn’t grow up with the same cultural references or childhood experiences. I lived in the in-between—a liminal space that felt isolating at times.

But in college, I started meeting others like me. And I realized we are our own group. Our own culture. A subset of people who blend tradition with modernity, survival with ambition, and heritage with innovation. That’s not something to hide—it’s something to own.

Because while our kids might not carry the same first-gen identity, we get to live it. And if we embrace it, it becomes our greatest asset—not a gap to close, but a strength to celebrate.

No Map? No Problem.

Adulthood doesn’t come with a guidebook. And for people like me, it definitely doesn’t come with generational wealth, insider tips, or a Rolodex of connections. But that doesn’t mean we’re lost. It means we’re creating the map as we go.

We’re the ones Googling financial terms at 2 a.m., asking “dumb” questions at work until we don’t have to anymore, and calling home not for instructions, but for strength. We’re the ones who invest in ourselves, who choose growth even when it’s uncomfortable, who carry both legacy and vision in the same breath.

And if you’re out there doing the same—navigating life, culture, career, and adulthood with no roadmap—just know this: you’re not behind. You’re just building something new. Something yours.