The late bloomer

A late bloomer is someone who comes into his own being late in life, or at least later than the linear trajectory of conventional wisdom of how lives of individuals should be managed and lived. It is possible to frame it in Erik Eriksson´s life stages.

Most of us grow up with an unspoken assumption: development is linear. Childhood is when trust and confidence are formed, adolescence is when identity takes shape, and adulthood is when careers, relationships, and contributions unfold. But real life is rarely linear. Some of us enter university late, find careers in midlife, or discover our creative voice after 50. Psychology has a useful lens for understanding this: Erik Erikson’s psychosocial stages of development.

Erikson argued that life unfolds across eight stages, each defined by a central conflict. A positive resolution gives us a strength to carry forward; a negative outcome leaves a wound that lingers. Crucially, these stages are lifelong: if something isn’t resolved in childhood, it isn’t lost — it can be revisited, reworked, and healed later.

The Eight Stages at a Glance

1. Infancy (0–1) – Trust vs. Mistrust

2. Early Childhood (1–3) – Autonomy vs. Shame/Doubt

3. Preschool (3–6) – Initiative vs. Guilt

4. School Age (6–12) – Industry vs. Inferiority

5. Adolescence (12–20) – Identity vs. Role Confusion

6. Young Adulthood (20–40) – Intimacy vs. Isolation

7. Middle Adulthood (40–65) – Generativity vs. Stagnation

8. Late Adulthood (65+) – Integrity vs. Despair

Each stage asks a fundamental question: Can I trust? Can I act? Can I belong? Can I love? Can I contribute? Can I make peace?

A Late Bloomer’s Story Through Erikson’s Lens

I didn’t enter university until 26. By then, I had already lived through childhood with a volatile mother and an absent father, summers away from home, and teenage years that left me feeling invisible. In Eriksonian terms, my early stages tilted toward mistrust, shame, and inferiority.

And yet, the story didn’t end there.

• School Age & Adolescence (Industry, Identity): I wasn’t celebrated in my family, but in my teens I was invited to perform — on school stages, even on TV. I couldn’t quite internalise it, but seeds of industry and identity were there.

• Young Adulthood (Intimacy): I left home, built relationships, started a family. But intimacy was always coloured by the early belief that I was “not enough.”

• Middle Adulthood (Generativity): Here is where the arc shifted. I built a career as a lecturer in economics, bought and sold a home, moved across countries, and — unexpectedly — found myself in a jazz swing band in Denmark. At 48, I learned standards and solos. At 58, I moved to Stockholm and play alongside seasoned musicians. Generativity is alive and well.

• Late Adulthood (Integrity): I’m not there yet, but I feel the stage opening. Integrity isn’t about having had a flawless path — it’s about weaving together the fragments, even the late starts, into a coherent story.

For late bloomers, Erikson’s model is liberating. It tells us:

• Development is not a race.

• Wounds from early stages don’t vanish, but they can be revisited with new strength.

• Growth doesn’t stop at 20 or 30. In fact, the 40s, 50s, and beyond may be when the most authentic integration happens.

My own journey — from an invisible child to an economist and musician — is proof of this. I didn’t follow a straight line, but I kept building scaffolding where it was missing.

Systems and Soul

When I analyze economies, I look for bottlenecks and bridges. The same applies to personal life. Bottlenecks in childhood — mistrust, shame, invisibility — slow development. But bridges can be built later: education, creativity, love, generativity.

Erikson’s model reminds us that even if the early scaffolding wasn’t there, it’s never too late to build. The late bloomer’s path isn’t lesser. It’s simply another rhythm — slower in places, deeper in others, but no less valid.