The Uncertainty Of Growing Up.
When I was little, all I wanted was to be older. Older was a simile for freedom, maturity and above all, certainty. A type of certainty that came equipped with an innate answer for all of life’s questions. I used to think adults just knew and I wanted to have their conviction, but my understanding of adulthood was youthful naivety.
Because the first thing I’m realizing as I get older is that there’s just more uncertainty than before. There is more choice sure, more will to do as you please, but the risks and costs are higher. When you’re a kid, you have endless elasticity to make mistakes, because you have the reassurance of a bright future to rectify your errors. Your decisions aren’t as defining or detrimental; you can screw up over and over, and get up each time.
But now when you’re older. You aren’t just liable for yourself anymore and you don’t have the insurance of infinite time. The implications of your choices have more power now and you realize you aren’t as free as you thought you would be.
You also never know when you become an adult. I don’t think there’s a particular age. Sometimes, I wake up and think to myself, is it today? But then I am reminded of the truth and all of the uncertainty that is my life right now, and I realize I’ve never felt more scared. Suddenly, I want to regress back to childhood nights, when the only fear I had were the perceived monsters under my bed. The monsters now don’t just hide in the dark, they stand in front of me in daylight. On my workouts, reading a book or even just taking a bath when I wonder if what I’m doing is right. If it’s growing up or if it’s giving in? Is it cowardice or brave? I can’t tell which path is the righteous one; I can’t even decide what the paths are really.
Of course, you wouldn’t think I was this doubtful by looking at me. You would scoff me off as someone with her life together, someone going places, someone with drive. But that’s the beauty of perception; it’s what’s seen but not what’s truly felt. I can wear nice dresses, heels and more statement necklaces, I can list off “accomplishments” and I can make my socials lengthier with more “achievements and fun” but does that mean anything really? Am I really going somewhere or just circling the safe path? I can’t tell so I decided even if I was unsure, I would go down this path, and go through the loops of achievements everyone justifies as “going places.” Because that way, at least external voices won’t doubt you, just the one in your head.
The truth is this we were lied to about adulthood. It has us thinking we ought not to make mistakes in exchange for the freedom we have. As a child I wanted that freedom too, and now that I have it, I realized it has proved useful in ways I didn’t expect it to. Yes, I’ve had to cater for myself and I’ve got my own fair share of responsibilities and tough days. Tough luck. But there are also things which I didn’t have as a kid that I have now as an adult, and I’m grateful for them: the freedom to think for myself, the space to mature emotionally on my own, the freedom to turn every prefabricated idea I had imbibed growing up on its head — and the chance to see things differently.
Growing up, I expected a neat, tidy explanation for everything. I’d get perplexed when things didn’t turn out the way I’d expected it to. Everything for me had to be clear-cut, black and white. But it wasn’t always like that. I couldn’t keep up with, for instance, my elder’s seemingly mercurial temperaments, the contradictory nature of most adults. I had so many unanswered questions. Indeed, I expected adults to be perfect. I only saw their behavior but was fully unaware of what was going on underneath.
And that’s what adulthood has introduced me to: the complexity of our humanness. I’ve grown to deal with cold, hard truths and new realities. And with every new realization, I’m bursting with relief. All those years that I internalized the perceived anger some adults had shot my way, thinking it was as a result of something I am. Something bad. There are the beliefs and ideas that I had to take as the truth but which sat like a lump in my throat, because I wasn’t sure if I believed them. If only someone would have told me to just be a child.
Adulthood came with freedom, yes — it came with the chance to grow emotionally, which in my experience is the best (albeit difficult) part. There’s this relief of not thinking from the perspective of a child or a much younger adult.
Transitioning into adulthood hasn’t been particularly easy. I still deal with a long spells of listlessness, confusion, and the occasional urge to give up. The day-to-day, practical aspects of living can sometimes be hard to deal with, but necessary to remain a functional adult. Nevertheless, adulthood has also equipped me with a mind that, when used properly, affords me an amount of self-awareness that allows me to direct my life.
Adulthood has been a chance to reinvent myself, to rewrite the story of my life. And I simply just want to get on with it.
