I’ve been a short girl for as long as I can remember. I have a sneaking suspicion that when I was little, I may have looked like a sea monkey. People mistake my 17-year-old sister for the eldest every day. But this doesn’t bother me. Yet it does bother me that right now, sitting here at Library West on a Wednesday afternoon, I’m completely unsure about how well I am doing. What I mean by this is, that at 21 years old, I’m still not quite sure what being an adult really is. I’m still not quite sure if I’m doing everything I should be, and as for the things I am currently doing, I’m still not quite sure if I’m doing them all correctly.
Until I started college, I don’t recall ever feeling like I was falling behind. Falling behind on the growth curve? Yes. Falling behind in life? Not quite. Some people assume when they’re young that, after we start college, we naturally fall into adulthood. At least, I definitely felt that way. Until I was older, all I really knew about being older was that everyone seemed to know what they were doing ― which shampoos to purchase, which stores to go to, how many eggs to put in an omelet, etcetera. No one ever tells you that those things are arbitrary, or that it’s normal to call your mom in the laundromat to ask her whether to put your black and white polka-dotted sweater with the whites or the blacks.
I’ve sometimes wondered: Is being an adult a real thing that happens when you turn 18, or does it count as a state of mind? I’ve never once felt like I was an adult. If I could be bold, maybe I could call myself an adult-in-training. Possibly. The downside to a late birthday is that you end up being the oldest among your friends. But sometimes, regardless of age, you can feel a little younger, and a little less mature than everyone else.
I’ve heard the phrase “coming into your own” over and over. According to the internet (a great tool in all situations), this apparently means to “become fully effective; to be very useful or successful in a particular situation.” I’ve used this phrase on several occasions to describe how college has affected me. I’ve said things such as, “I’ve really come into my own since I’ve been away,” or “College has really helped me come into my own.” So, have I been using it wrong? I definitely don’t feel as though I’ve become “fully effective,” and I’m not completely sure if I’m “very useful or successful.” But maybe I should also consider this: each one of these terms is completely subjective. There isn’t just one type of “effective.” There isn’t just one form of success. That’s the reason there are so many different success stories, and it’s the reason that people cheer on smaller victories, like puppies jumping off of couches for the very first time.
The real question is: Does coming into your own mean the same thing as knowing what you’re doing? If so, maybe I haven’t reached either of those points yet. Or maybe growing up isn’t just something you “do” for a few years until you decide you’re ready to be an adult. Maybe we’re constantly growing, and constantly moving upwards. Regardless of what it actually is, I’m starting to be a little more okay with being unsure. We can always learn to be a little more confident in ourselves, and maybe take a little bit of comfort in knowing that no one is 100 percent sure. I may not be approaching life the way everyone else does, but for now, I’ll just keep keepin’ on.
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