19 August 2016

Day 1: I Remember When

I am participating in the 8-Minute Memoir challenge from Ann Dee Ellis. Thanks to C. Jane and Tracy for writing great posts that made me want to do it too.

I remember when I was young and all I wanted was to be an adult. I knew that my life would be so much better when I could drive myself anywhere and eat whatever I wanted. I was convinced that I would only be truly happy when I would walk around and other adults would acknowledge me as their fellow adult. I imagined walking through a crowded shopping center, nodding at all the other adults with a knowing glance that would indicate my own maturity. The other adults walking past me would exchange the same nods and glances with me and with each other and we would all think to ourselves, These children have no idea what they are missing.

I remember when I thought adulthood would be the prime of my life. I just knew in the back of my mind that adults had every option available to them and they chose freely, and even randomly, what they would do with their copious amounts of free time.

I remember when I realized my childhood fantasies about adulthood were more fantastic than any novel I’d read. I was in college, flustered as I woke up late, again, and checked my Psychology 101 grade. I remember thinking how ridiculous it seemed that I, a legal adult, could have done so poorly on that test. I remember checking my bank account and realizing that my options were dependent on the numbers on the screen—and those numbers were very, very low.

I remember when at 22 I was halfway across the world as a missionary, following a bajillion rules and feeling freer and more adult than I ever had before, realizing that the rules and regulations were important to me. Most of them at least.

I remember when I looked in the mirror one morning and saw myself in a new light. The change came on so slowly that I’d barely noticed, but I saw myself as the adult I’d always wanted to be. I remember thinking in that moment that adulthood was nothing I ever could have expected.

No comments:

Post a Comment