My shin bones used to ache and wake me up in the middle of the night. “Growing pains,” my mom would declare and tuck me back in bed. She promised me that achey shins meant that I would be tall and strong one day soon.
Five feet and 10 inches later, I am twenty years old and can drive my own car, vote, smoke cigarettes, and be tried as a legal adult. I make my own breakfast and don’t have a bedtime anymore. I live 800 miles away from home and only call when I want to.
But lately, I’ve been calling more and more.
Between physics midterms, crew practice, Robert Browning, club meetings, late nights and early mornings, sometimes I don't want to make my own breakfast. A busy schedule, even though it is full of things I love, can be unbelievably overwhelming and sometimes it feels that I don’t even have the little things down. I text my mom to ask her how to get a stain out of the carpet and exactly how important it is to use detergent. I call my dad to ask which cold medicine to buy and if I should take philosophy of ethics or of law. I may be an adult, but I sure don't know how to be one.
As a sophomore student at a university, I feel like I should probably know my way around by now. But, truth be told, I still don't know the difference between Vari Hall and Varsi Hall and I still panic every time I have to pull my car into the garage while simultaneously swiping my access card. The word sophomore’s meaning may actually stem from the roots of “clever,” but I think that “wise fool” is much more fitting.
My mom’s prediction rang true; I am tall and strong and don’t have achey shins anymore. But, sometimes I wonder if the pains of growing only just started when my height stopped increasing.
Change is hard, growing up is hard, sometimes everything is hard, but just because it is hard does not mean that it is not a good thing. Maybe even the best thing. I’ll keep calling home and planning visits with my parents, but I’ll also keep learning how to live on my own. I’ll print my own insurance card, iron my clothes, and heck, maybe even buy a cookbook.
So long as I’m growing, I don't mind if it hurts a little bit.
