Over a decade ago I read Robert Bly’s The Sibling Society and thought, damn, I better grow up. Around that same time, Sharon Hyman put her camera on a tripod, stared into the lens, and asked the very legitimate question: What does it mean to grow up and why aren’t I doing it? Never married, childless, with no discernable career, still renting, she possessed none of the conventional “markers” of adulthood. She was the arrivist who never quite got there. As she says at one point to the camera, “There are early bloomers, there are late bloomers, and then there are the never bloomers.”