Fontana, CA — There is a haunting moment in a conversation between Bishop T.D. Jakes and former NFL quarterback Cam Newton. Their stories should linger in the minds of every Black professional over 30. Reflecting on Newton’s life choices—nine children by multiple women, no marriages, and a pattern of postponing commitment—Jakes offers a piercing diagnosis: “You’ve built a life around your youth, but the truth is that your youth is fleeing you.”

That sentence deserves to be framed, not merely repeated.

You’ve built a life around your youth, but your youth is fleeing you.

In that moment, Jakes was not speaking merely to a celebrity athlete. He was articulating a cultural condition—one that has taken hold of many high-achieving Black professionals, whether consciously or not, who have constructed entire life strategies on the assumption that time is abundant, fertility is permanent, opportunity is endlessly renewable, and tomorrow is guaranteed.

It is not.

Your twenties and early thirties feel like summer. Your body responds quickly. Your energy is abundant. You are still invited to every table. You are building careers, stacking accolades, enjoying flexibility, and telling yourself, “I’ll get serious later.”

But time does not negotiate.

In your forties, life becomes autumn—quietly but unmistakably. Invitations change. The body whispers new truths. Parents age. Health becomes less forgiving. The dating pool narrows. Dreams you postponed start to weigh heavier on your chest. And if you have not planted in the summer, autumn exposes what you delayed.

As TD Jakes also mentioned during his exchange with Cam Newton, he drew a comparison between the window of time for youth and the steam on a bathroom mirror after a shower: Youth is like steam on a bathroom mirror—here for a moment, then gone before you can even dry yourself off.

Real Regrets, Real Data

This is not poetic exaggeration—it is statistically verifiable reality.

A landmark University of Chicago study found that over 75% of Americans aged 40–65 report at least one major life regret, with the most common being:

• Not pursuing meaningful relationships earlier
• Delaying marriage and family
• Choosing career over emotional fulfillment
• Waiting too long to change career paths

Psychologist Dr. Thomas Gilovich, one of the leading researchers on regret, explains:

“People’s greatest regrets are failures to act. Over time, the things we did not do become far more painful than the mistakes we made.”

This is especially resonant within Black professional culture, where ambition, resilience, and survival instincts often collide with emotional deference.

In one of my previous articles, entitled Being Intentional, I cite Claudia Jordan’s sobering realization that she had built her life around her youth and career: by the time she desired marriage and family, her childbearing years had largely passed, and the men in her age bracket who were emotionally available were already married.

Cam Newton’s story is not merely about poor relational choices; it is about the danger of assuming you will mature into purpose later rather than building purpose now.

Clinical psychologist Dr. Thema Bryant, former president of the American Psychological Association, warns:

“Delayed emotional development is often masked by success. But achievement cannot substitute for intention.”

Many of us confuse movement with progress. We are busy—but not building. Productive—but not preparing.

Now, for women, biology is brutally honest. The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists reports:

• Female fertility begins a noticeable decline after age 32
• After age 37, fertility drops precipitously
• By age 40, the chance of natural conception per cycle is less than 5%

Yet a 2023 Pew Research study found that nearly 60% of women who wanted children but delayed motherhood cited career priorities as the primary reason—and over half later expressed regret.

Men are not exempt.

UCLA research shows that male fertility also declines with age, contributing to higher miscarriage rates, increased autism risk, and pregnancy complications. Still, Black men, in particular, are socialized to believe time is always on our side.

It is not.

Economist and behavioral scientist Dr. Dan Ariely describes procrastination not as laziness, but as self-deception:

“When people delay important life decisions, they are not buying time—they are spending it.”

Consider Marcus, a 43-year-old corporate attorney who spent his thirties traveling, casually dating, and stacking promotions. He told himself he would settle down when the time felt right. At 41, his mother died unexpectedly. At 42, he was diagnosed with hypertension. Today, he admits:

“I thought I had ten more years. I don’t. I’m starting from zero emotionally.”

Or Monique, a 38-year-old nonprofit executive who postponed motherhood while raising other people’s children. Today, she faces fertility treatments that cost more than her graduate degree.

These are not outliers. They are reflections.

Why Black Professionals Are Especially Vulnerable

We grew up watching our parents struggle, survive, and sacrifice. Many of us internalized an unspoken vow: I will never be broke again. So we chase degrees, promotions, titles, and ownership—and delay anything that feels emotionally risky.

But emotional risk is not optional. It is unavoidable. It simply arrives later, with interest. Sociologist Dr. Niobe Way explains:

“Achievement cultures often reward suppression of emotional needs, especially among Black men. But unexpressed needs do not disappear—they wait.”

There is a myth that life is linear: school, career, marriage, family, legacy—each step waiting patiently for the previous one to finish. That is not how time works.

Time is a series of doors. Each door has a lock that eventually changes.

You cannot walk through the door of family-building at 50 with the same options you had at 30. You cannot recover the emotional range that was never exercised. You cannot raise children you never chose to have. And no amount of success will negotiate those realities.

Question: Have you planned your life around youth rather than preparation?

That question is the hinge of this entire discussion.

So here it is plainly:

• Have you mistaken flexibility for permanence?
• Have you delayed commitment under the illusion of control?
• Have you confused potential with inevitability?

If so, time is not your enemy—but it is not your friend either.

It is your witness.

And it is recording everything you are not doing.

Youth is not a strategy. It is a season.

And seasons do not ask permission before they change.