A couple of years ago, a friend said that maybe I am an adult and that this (my life at that time) is actually what being an adult is like. I laughed, a lot.
I imagine people who ‘adult’, properly, are people who have their shit together. They are the kind of people who eat proper meals instead of peanut butter or ice cream or a packet of biscuits (I could go on…). They get up and go to sleep and the same time every day. They exercise. They have proper jobs. Adults are responsible for things, such as other human beings and animals. I don’t see myself as an adult.
But, maybe I am…
I spoke to a friend today who has a teenage son and I heard myself say “he is an adult and should take responsibility for what he has done and fix xx (thing he broke).
After this conversation, I mulled on that thought. If being responsible is being an adult, then I may actually be one.
Yeah, I procrastinate about my cleaning, washing up and tax returns, but I haven’t died yet, nothing is breeding in the dust and I have kept a roof over my head, so it’s not a bad effort.
I take responsiblity for myself, my wellbeing, my future and the place I live. I don’t feel that I do these things particularly well, but I do them. I therefore think if I redefine what I think an adult is, I may just be one!!
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