Today marks the end of my first semester at BYU - Idaho, and I'm quite happy for that! I think that, for all y'all's enjoyment, I'm going to write about being an adult.
Recently, the idea of adulthood has been on my mind, partly because I just turned twenty. Legally, of course, you're an adult at 18 in the U.S., but very few people would actually consider you "adult" at 18. Twenty, on the other hand, marks two decades on the earth and the passage out of teenagerhood. If you're too old to be a teenager, what does that make you? Well, I imagine, an adult.
But I really don't feel like an adult, so the thought of qualifying as one not just legally but socially is pretty daunting. It's like I'm sitting here waving my arms in the air, like, "Wait! I haven't gained the quality of adultness! I need it! Help me!"
That, of course, brings up the question of what that "adultness" is that I'm missing. So I spent a while thinking about this last night. It's not age, experience, or education, because I have a pretty decent allotment of all of these. So when is it that I feel the least adult? Around other people. I look at them--people older than me, people my age, even a good number of people younger than me--and I'm like, "What the heck? You're taken more seriously than me. You're cooler than me. You know what's up more than I do. Look how mature and smart you are!"
So I think I have a misconstrued idea of what being adult means. To me, it's always meant confidence. Once I was an adult, I would no longer be insecure. I would be taken seriously, and I would be beautiful, and I would know what was up. Now, I know that's an unrealistic expectation for anyone at any age. Insecurity is the human condition. So I guess I am an adult, but I'm also just me. And that's okay.
However, there is another aspect of adulthood that I struggle with: practical skills. When it comes to living on my own and taking care of myself, I am a big bucket of fail. Here is a short list of some of the things that adults should be able to do that I have found myself failing at.
Most recently, I was pouring myself a bowl of cereal for lunch, and I realized the milk looked very wrong. I glanced in the carton and saw that it was most definitely curdled. I checked the expiration date: a month past. I'd been drinking this milk as recently as last week.
So, although many of my insecurities are nothing to worry about, there's one thing I really could improve on.
DON'T BE LIKE ME. CHECK THE EXPIRATION DATES ON YOUR MILK REGULARLY.
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