Google defines ‘adult’ as a person who is fully grown or developed. I continue by inspecting my own body, keeping in mind that women generally fully mature by age 19. After a moment of inspecting my relatively short legs, I begin to reflect on the fact that they will never be any longer than they are today. Well, that’s just great.
So I’m fully grown, so what? Still, does the length of my legs, or the size of my breasts really determine how much of an adult I am? I’m not convinced, so I look further. The next definition I find defines ‘adult’ as someone mature and sensible, not childish. Well, that’s a load of bull, if I’ve ever heard it. I’m sensible, sure, but now that my legs are fully grown, I’m no longer able to be childlike?
Hmm, I will refute both definitions. Instead, I would like to offer you my own – To be an adult is to express the essential features of humanity’s perceived idea of what an ‘adult’ should be succinctly. In other words, to be an adult is to pretend to be a person who has attained the age of maturity as specified by law.
Let’s just say, technically and physically, I am an adult. But emotionally, I am an awkward 12-year-old trapped in a 21-year-old’s body. As of now, I am highly dependent on my parents (bless their kind, generous, and patient souls). So adulthood to me is a minimum of ten years away, in a world where I am financially stable, drink less, and own (or have a mortgage on) a house or an apartment (let’s stick with apartment, because that seems a little more feasible). My only fear is that my 350-square foot apartment won’t have room for my…
Containers
I know what you’re thinking, why would anyone be excited to own their own containers? Well, my fellow collegiates, I feel as though owing containers is almost a rite of passage. It’s not so much the containers themselves that I’m excited for, but instead, what the containers represent. Containers represent adulthood for me. They represent independence, success, and the future. Containers serve to exemplify all the seemingly mundane, but in fact, crucial household items that will make adulthood a little easier. I’m completely serious! I cannot wait for the day when I go out and can (afford to) purchase my own Tupperware. Give me ten years, but I promise you, I will own some kick ass, and probably revolutionary containers. Don’t even get me started on drying racks…
Brunch
Currently, I am a fourth year university student who lives off of cereal and old granola bars. About a year and a half ago, a good friend of mine invited me out for brunch and it was… life changing. In comparison to stale cheerios, brunch is everything. So, I have ignited my love for everything “brunch”, however, because I live on a student budget and time table, I never get to indulge in this pastime that I love so much. But, one day, when I’m all “growed up” I will make the allowance in my budget and timetable to sit down and enjoy brunch every day (or like, at least on weekends.) I can see it now: I’ll sleep in, order a mimosa (socially acceptable, it’s okay), and indulge in an order of French toast with strawberries and whipped cream, pancakes, and of course, a side of bacon.
Independence/Financial Comfort
So, I’m a university student, I think that may be something that we have in common (does this mean we’re bonding?). I have more independence than I’ve ever had before, so then why, do I not feel entirely independent? Well, let me tell you. We may think we’re adults, but in reality we still rely on our parents for a lot (or at least, I do.) My parents always reassured me growing up that I was welcome at home for as long as I needed (or wanted,) rent-free, as long as I pursued a post-secondary education. Now, they didn’t do this to be mean, quite the contrary actually. Instead, they did this so that I would develop a sense of ownership and responsibility. That way, after high school, regardless of what I pursued, I would always be responsible with my time. Thankfully for me, I decided to do just the thing they hoped I would, and decided to tackle university. But due to that feat, I am irretrievably (or so it would seem), broke.
I’m left with close to nothing after paying for school, car insurance, phone bills etc. And on the rare occasion that I find myself in a sticky situation, my parents are always there. They always catch me when I fall, or help me bear the weight that I carry on my shoulders when it’s too heavy.
One day, when I’m all growed up, I would love nothing more than to return the favor. And I continually seek comfort that no matter how grown up I think I am, when I need my parents, they will, without a doubt, be there.
Own a house
If you thought I got excited about what containers exemplified, try to comprehend what I think owning my own house would be like. Right now, owning a house seems like a dream (especially in this market), but my goal, one day, is to own my very own house. At that point in my life, I feel as though it’ll all make sense. I’ll be comfortably settled into a job I love, and I’ll have it all figured out. (I think future me is in for a rude awakening, but let’s let present me seek consolation in this perfect future she has dreamt up).
Buying and eating a full cake
Why? Because I can.
S.O.
I am beyond excited to meet Mr. Right, because so far, all I’ve come across is Mr. Wrong. Sometimes when I’m having a bad day, I’ll imagine what my future husband is doing right in that moment. I wonder what he’s doing, and if he ever thinks of me too. And when I look up at the moon, is he taking off his shoe? (I felt like that was a poetic moment, but all that really rhymed was shoe.) It’s all very corny and romantic, but I’m a sucker for a good fairytale (if you couldn’t already tell).
Living with my S.O.
So, I’m excited to meet him. I’m excited to have our first kiss, and fall deeply, irretrievably in love. I’m excited for his eventual proposal thereafter, and the events that will follow. Maybe I just like the idea of being in love, or the act of falling itself. I don’t know. But I do know that I’m excited to share the mundane moments of my life with my person. I’m excited to go grocery shopping together, fight about who will do the dishes, push each other to go to the gym, and inevitably start our own little family.
Kids
Since I was little, I’ve always known I’ve wanted a family. I think I want three or four kids, but the number is always changing. While the notion of creating a human inside me both excites and terrifies me, one thing never falters: I am so excited to meet them and watch them grow. I imagine tight hugs, snowball fights, and Christmas mornings. I’m not ready for all that now, I’m practically still a kid myself. But one day I will be ready to be a mother, and I’m going to be the absolute best at it.
Pets
Now, it seems all I need now is a furry companion. Personally, I’m a dog person (apologies to all you cat people out there), because cats give me the creeps. Accordingly, I think it’s absolutely essential to invite a puppy to join my little family. I’m still working on her name, but she’s going to be the sweetest, and I’ll love her until her heart hurts.
So, it seems I’ve drawn up this perfect, stereotypical nuclear family with a white picket fence and blue trimming. I would not refute this. I have unknowingly done just that. So maybe I’m old fashioned? But I also love a good adventure. So what does the future hold for me? And where do I see myself in ten years? I have absolutely no idea, but I’m excited for every single part of it. But one thing holds true, I’m excited to express the essential features of humanity’s perceived idea of what an ‘adult’ should be succinctly; while inside, I’ll still probably have no idea what I’m doing.