Born an Adult

Tonight my roommate had a birthday gathering for her friend. Our house had 6 giggly, sugar high, carefree, 22 year old girls chatting and laughing and telling inside jokes for 3 hours. I couldn't help but avoid them. I sat in an adjacent room to the festivities watching Juno for the second time wondering what I was like at their age. Could people hardly stand me? Did they struggle to listen to my stories because my speech was so high pitched only dogs could understand me? Did I have nothing more important to talk about than my social calendar?

The answer to all those questions is no. At 22 I was boring! I was finally allowed to figure out who I was. And I was slowly determining what was my opinion and what had been forced into my thinking. I had stopped talking to my mom and with that came a lot of freedom. I was in love, or so I thought. I was a year into getting to know my dad. I was working full time and had quit college. I was learning how many elements go into maintaining a home.

Fast forward to present time, and I'm gonna be 29 in 4 days. I seriously wonder if I've been an adult my entire life. I don't miss my early twenties and I'm not interested in re-living them. The past is over. Plus, the benefit of being boring then means I'm tons of fun now. I realized a lot sooner in life what was important to me. I make sure I explore all my crazy ideas and cherish the moments that will make up the pleasant memories I'll have when I'm sitting in a rest home drooling at 90.