Growing up hurts...
I stopped living in my parents’ house when I was eighteen, I have been living alone for a year and a half, I have gray hair, I go to the doctor alone without anyone telling me, I had a small surgery, I have a stable job, I have to deal with money issues, credit cards, loans, and even go to therapy…
The list goes on and on, the list of things that can be attributed to an adult, despite that list, I think I always refused to see myself as an adult.
Recently I decided to buy a car… and the truth is that it made me think that was the top of my list, no more denying that I have grown up, I have to deal with all these new responsibilities (that everyone has kindly reminded me of), I have to take the exams (and other bureaucratic matters) that no one else can do for me, I have to pay for the car, I have to be careful to avoid accidents, take care of myself, and not harm anyone else… it feels like a lot to me.
But… there is a “but”… I have realized that what really made me feel like an adult is not the car… it’s accepting the fact that my decisions are mine and that each of those decisions, whether it’s buying a car or having eggs for breakfast, has consequences for me and for other people, and I am responsible for those consequences.
I can’t have someone helping me with my decisions or doing things for me all the time. I have to do them myself, fight for them, enjoy the good things that come from them, and face the bad things.
And… I have to say that I am very proud of myself, because blaming others ALL the time is a very common disease and certainly an easy way out… but the truth is, if I can’t be blamed for my mistakes, I can’t be congratulated for my successes, and it can’t be said that I am living my life…