I first realized I was an adult when I prepared to move out of my parents' home. My boyfriend (who later became my husband) and I were both feeling "grown" and ready to set up housekeeping together. I'd started breaking curfew and doing other things that would have, in the long run, damaged my relationship with my Mom and Dad. It was time to step up to the plate. Still with this new feeling of adulthood came a heavy dose of regret. I had to muster up the nerve to break the news to my parents.
Even though I was in my late twenties, I had never lived away from their home. Upon high school graduation, when I had the chance to go far away to college, I chose one in my hometown so that I could be close to them. Leaving from their home to live with *Leon had me feeling unsure and exhilarated all at once! I was transitioning from child to adult, taking responsibility for my own actions. It showed a Dad, who teased that I'd be applying for social security benefits at age sixty-five from under his roof, that I was serious about living out this new feeling of "adultness."
Looking back now, I realize coming to terms with being an adult gave my parents the ability to "exhale." I knew I could always come back home if my new housekeeping venture didn't pan out. But Mom and Dad knew this event was a big step toward autonomy and that once tasting the sweet flavor of freedom, it would be impossible for me to live under their roof again. I never returned.
Realizing you're an adult can sneak up on you and take you by surprise or you can see it coming from a mile away. Being an adult is not measured by how many years you have under your belt, but by how you accept challenges that come your way; handling life's problems in a mature manner.
*name changed
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