I have always pictured an adult like a solved rubix cube: each little colored square is exactly where it’s supposed to be, masterfully maneuvered into its rightful place.
As a recent college graduate I am filled with a tremendous pressure to have all my colored squares in a row as I am constantly asked what my plans are. While opening my degree as it arrived in that crease-free envelope, all I could hear was the world telling me: “Congratulations here’s a piece of paper that cost you five years of your life and a 100k, now go be an adult.”
The playful question of “what do you wanna be when you grow up?” was no longer a kindergarten topic, but was now staring me directly in the face. Six-year-old me wanted to be a cowgirl but I don’t think the market for that is really good anymore and there’s no way it would cover dental. I am grown up, but what do I wanna be?
Hold up, I can barely return my movies on time let alone plan out my whole future. I just figured out how to broil something in the oven, so I think I have reached my “adult” level for the week. I am young and the world is supposedly at my fingertips, all I have to do is choose. Yet, how can I decide such a fate when I can’t even pick what to watch on Netflix in a reasonable amount of time?
Adulthood seemed so glamorous when I was a child. The freedom! The boyfriend that looks like Justin Timberlake! BOOBS! Little did I know that the freedom gets you into trouble and the boyfriend (who probably doesn’t look like JT) comes with compromise and possible heartbreak. The boobs, I must admit, are actually pretty awesome.
Dictionary.com defines an adult as “a person who is fully grown or developed or of age.” I see nowhere in that definition telling me that I have to wear pantsuits and not eat pizza for breakfast. So what is this obsession with constantly wanting to have your life together when it has merely begun? You cannot tie together a bouquet of flowers when they have just begun to bloom.
Just like the steps to solving a rubix cube, I am plagued with the trial and error process that is life. Hangovers (yes we get those now that we are not 19 anymore) teach you to stay away from whiskey, cell phone tickets teach you to not Snapchat while you’re driving, and your fire alarm teaches you to pay closer attention to the recipe. With each lesson learned, my path will become clearer. I don’t have it all figured out, and that is okay. To me, being an adult is accepting that and moving forward.
So call me an optimist, but I know that one day my rubix cube will be solved and I will look back on my messy cube of the past and wonder why I was so worried in the first place.