Growing up, I could not wait to become an adult. I wanted to live in my own house, make my own rules, and live my own way. I was going to do everything right that I swore my parents did wrong in raising me. I was going to stay up late. I was going to go to the movies on a weeknight. The word adult was synonymous with freedom for me and I could not wait for the day my freedom began, the day I woke up and was an actual adult.
Fast-forward about six years and technically, I am an adult. At eighteen years old, I am an adult according to the law, but I still feel like a child. My mom is my best friend and receives daily calls from me that include talking about my day, receiving advice and basically trying to learn how to live my life. I mean, I’m living in a room the size of a shoebox and fixing everything with duct tape. None of this feels very grown up to me.
My big ‘Ah-Ha!’ moment when I wake up and am an actual adult has yet to happen. Truthfully, I feel more lost than ever. W-2s and 401-Ks make absolutely no sense to me or anything else with random numbers and letters like a 403b. Also, forget living according to my own rules. Classes and GPAs now rule my existence. My nights routinely consist of homework and exhaustion, not late night adventures.
I have found that many people my age refer to those of us eighteen or older as adults, but we distinguish ourselves from ‘real adults.’ Real adults are the people with "nine to five" jobs, a mortgage, a car and a sense of where their life is going. They know the difference between a W-2 and W-9, how to make a car payment and can cook something besides Ramen in a microwave.
Those of us who aren’t real adults, but are still technically adults are still blundering our way through life. We really only keep the title of adult because sometimes it comes in handy, such as when you want to sit with the ‘real adults’ at a family gathering or are try to explain to parents why we were out until two am while home for break. It’s because we’re adults. We’re allowed to stay out late and make decisions for ourselves. Although, as soon as someone mentions how the adults have to be responsible and clean up or pick up the tab, we pretend the term doesn’t apply to us.
At this age, I am in flux. I pride myself on being an adult, but am embarrassed to admit I have no idea how to be a real adult. Although, I think half the fun will be trying to figure it all out. Sure, I’ll probably mess up more times than I care to admit, but six years ago I imagined being an adult by now, so in another six years I might actually have figured it out. Wish me luck!
