Growing up. Something we all must do, something that is forced upon us.
I once thought that being a “grown up” meant being able to do whatever I wanted. I could eat anything I wanted, dress how I wanted, buy everything my heart desired, and live a life unhindered by age and innocence. Had I realized at the time that being an adult was anything but that, I probably would have chose to delay my assent into “adulthood” as long as possible.
Yes, there are many perks to being an adult and I can, indeed, do all of the things listed above, however, not in the way I once imagined (and despite my protesting I do love being a “grownup”). Being an adult, who is actually adult means prioritizing, taking care of yourself, and the ever daunting task of being responsible.
I feel like I tried to be an adult far too early in life, for fear of falling apart. I could controle myself even if I couldn’t controle my surroundings. I had several jobs, went to school, and still managed to see my friends five nights a week. I had it all together on the outside, but I was an absolute mess on the inside. I put so much pressure on myself, never allowing for the freedom to fail or mess up, which was extremely detrimental in the long run.
As I have “matured” in age (not necessarily in mind or spirit) I have begun to realize how important it is to let go. To stop allowing the pressure of being perfect, saving face or living according to others standards may be life long battle, but it is one that I would like to pursue.
My childhood may be disappointed that I didn’t become a veterinarian, movie star, or famous singer, but I think she would be pretty ok with how things turned out. After all, at the end of the day, I am an adult (most of the time) who does what she wants.