Sometimes I pause when I read a statement like this. I’m not a grown up, am I? I’ve shared before the feeling of waking up in the middle of the night in my tiny apartment and thinking ‘wow, this is mine…I live in place all by myself’. I’m not ashamed of such thinking. I think it’s just the way of things. I’m grateful really, because nothing forced me into adulthood any earlier than I was ready (sort of) and I’m aware that’s a privilege.
I am so lucky that I didn’t experience the kind of trauma the breeds the awareness of adulthood. Sure, I had moments where I paused and felt a bit more grown up than my years, but those were fleeting and overall, I remained a kid until I wasn’t.
What they don’t really tell you when you are growing up or moving through the world is that all the things that people say push you into being an adult, they don’t really. I didn’t feel like a functional member of society when I did my own laundry or got my own health insurance or purchased my first car. I didn’t. Perhaps these are grown up things to do, but I didn’t feel much like an adult doing them, so that is that. I was just starring in some weird play called ‘L does her own shit for once’.
I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure what to point to when I first read this prompt. I wasn’t. I didn’t know when I had that ah-ha moment. Then, I had a conversation that alit everything for me. It was a proverbial lightbulb moment in the purest sense. This individual and I were talking about ‘kids these days’. I know, I already sound like an old lady, but bear with me. We were talking about the differences between generations, good and bad, up and down, right and wrong. Of course, these were opinions shared. There was a smattering of facts sprinkled in, but overall, we were sharing our feelings. Our observations. Our sense of things as they are and might be.
I mentioned that I was always quite conscious of the parent-child relationship growing up. My parents are lovely humans and I’ve spoken about them quite a bit here, so that’s not news. I didn’t put them on a pedestal or see them as more than human, but I also never considered them to be my friends as a child. My mother was not my best friend. She was the human who birthed me and who told me what to do and who created boundaries and who celebrated my accomplishments and who sometimes had to say no. Same went for dad. I was able to admire all the things that made my parents supremely cool people, but in the strictly observational sense. There was no point in which I looked at my parents as my peers when I was a child.
I distinctly remember occasions where I went to mom or dad and shared with them (in a horrifically whiny sort of way) that so and so was permitted to do such and such and I was kindly and firmly told that whilst good for them, that was nothing that was going to happen in our home, gripes and tantrum be damned.
I want to be clear that I am not dictating how parenting should work. I’m not a parent, so there’s that. But also, I don’t think parents should tell other parents what to do. This feels in poor taste. Bad manners, and all. It does. Like MYOB, ya know? I’m only speaking to the benefits of such for me. I grew up in a house where there were guidelines and laws of the land and I understood that confiding in my parents was a good thing, but I shouldn’t mistake that for some Wild West scenario where that would remove me of any obligation on my end of things. No m’am/sir. Not even a little. Honesty was strongly encouraged, but as a mechanism for character development and growth, not a way to share secrets directly tied to shitty behavior and escape an appropriate response.
Anyway, what’s my point, right? Well, I remember when that shifted for me. There were certainly times in my life when I felt compelled to step outside of my strictly child role and advise my parents of my thoughts or feelings, but I still stayed squarely in the kid camp. There was still a feeling of ‘I’m sharing this view as your child and someone impacted by your behavior for that reason’.
Then one day, around 37ish, there was something else layered on top of that kid-parent groove that we had well-worn over the years. There was a mutual admiration and affection. There was a choice. A choice? A choice. I choose to be around my parents. Sure, I feel indebted for all they’ve given me and done for me over the years, but that’s not what I am talking about. There was a feeling of ‘hey, I really like these humans outside of the ‘making me’ factor and I’d like to spend time with them’. I think that revelation was the first time I truly felt like an adult.
Terrifying, I know, because I had lived as a so-called adult for more than half my life, but still. I’m just trying to keep it real here. That’s how I felt. I have a seat at the table now. I can still be overturned with a ‘I’m the parent’ moment, but it happens less than it used to. I seek advice from them as my parents, but more so, I seek their guidance because I respect them as humans. It’s wild and actually very lovely. Sure, there are downsides, which is to say that means I HAVE to act like an adult when I want to do anything else, but generally speaking, it’s pretty awesome.
So, again, am I telling you to shift the dynamic with your guardians or those you take care of? Nah. I’m not in any position to do so. I guess I’m just reminding you that the relationships we have are incredibly impactful. They literally mean everything. So, be thoughtful about your interactions. Consider the decisions you make when engaging. That’s all. Not a doctrine. Just a thought.
Have a great weekend. From one sorta grown-up to….?
x.
L.
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