My Take on Adult-ing
Did anybody truly prepare us for being adults? Did they tell us that there'd be sucky bills and a lawn to mow and beans to pick and weeds to pull and..... no. They didn't. Well, maybe they did. They tried. They sent us to high school classes that talked about being married and having a family and all the responsibilities that would come along with that, but we didn't listen. We were young, we were invincible, and we didn't care about a mortgage. I woke up recently and wondered how I got to this stage in my life. I'm 23. I've been married for 2 years. I have a job I love and I own half a house {which I bought for $1, Husband is very generous}. But...how did I get here? When did I leave behind eating grass with Sister because we were actually horses, or finding wonder in the first snowfall instead of just worrying about scooping the driveway, or realizing that each holiday comes and goes and my excitement level stays below a 4 instead of rising to an ecstatic 11.2? Writing this is making me strangely emotional.
I went from the chubby middle-schooler who thought high school kids were adults, to the awkward high school kid who was positive I'd have it all figured out in college, to the nerdy didn't-really-party-so-I-wasn't-cool college student who was struggling to decide what to eat for breakfast, let alone what to do with the rest of my life. And now I'm out of college. I am truly, positively, in all senses of the word, an adult. I even got pulled over for the very first time today {haven't told Husband yet...}
And while my I believe my 13-year-old self would be proud of the woman I have become, I really wonder who thought it was a good idea to trust me with a dog. And a husband.
Being an adult does come with its perks, I guess. I can stay up as late as I want {usually 10:30}, I can eat whatever I want {surprisingly, I have a very balanced diet} and I can do whatever I want {I blog for fun}. I'm clearly pretty boring, but that also means I am not a total failure. You're welcome, Mom & Dad.
At work, fellow employees are trusting me with major decisions, and even asking my opinion, and while I stay cool and collected on the outside with a "I've got this all figured out" attitude, inside I'm scared to death they're going to see thru the thin sheet of confidence I've strung between us {and I'm sure a number of them will read this, so there goes that}. I have to schedule my own dentist appointments. I have to decide what kind of toothpaste to buy, and then remember to remember when it runs out. And fruit snacks do not just magically appear in my cupboard like they used to.
Is anyone else pretending like they know it all, but actually learning along the way? I can't be the only one. Please tell me you feel this way. That adult-ing is a daily journey with the most beautiful mountaintops and the scariest, darkest, slimiest pits. That each day you wake up wondering why your boss takes you seriously, or your husband has faith you'll make his lunch and kiss him goodbye. Tell me that I can turn to you with questions about how to do this thing called life without messing up, and instead of judging me you'll come alongside me and we can help each other through these slimy pits and rejoice with each other on the mountaintops.
Because to be honest. I don't know what I'm doing. And I'm not sure many people do. I fake it more than I actually have a real answer. I read books, I talk to those who are wiser than me, and I pray. A lot. And that's how I'm getting through. I'm literally winging life.
I guess if there was an instruction manual there would be no adventure, no spur of the moment ice cream runs, no midnight laughs or hard conversations. So I can't complain about life or being an adult, it's actually pretty great. I'd just like to know I'm not the only one who has no idea what I'm doing. I don't even know if I'd consider myself an adult yet.
...and people wonder why we don't have kids
Joshua 1:9 "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go." {Even into adulthood}