Adulting is Hard

Source: Awake-Smile

“The horrifying moment when you’re looking for an adult, but then you realise that you’re an adult. So, you look for an older adult. Someone successfully adulting. An adultier adult.” – Unkown

As the years between myself and 30 are getting fewer, and the years with me in the adult world are increasing, a thought has occurred to me…I’m not where I thought I would be. This is then closely followed by the question, “well, why not?”

I think the answer lies with my ‘grown up goals’ not matching ‘grown up realities’.
Let me explain…looking back, I thought that at my current stage of life I would buying a flat. In reality, I cannot look at my bank balance without crying. This in fact comes hand in hand with salary expectations. Raise your hands if you thought you were going to be minted as an adult?! When in actual fact, I’m pretty sure I was richer when I had pocket money at 12 years old.

I laugh when I’m advised by people to get a good ‘work-life’ balance. In fact the social life I thought I’d have as an adult of staying out late and going to fancy bars, looks more like me hiding under the duvet, in fact it just is me hiding under the duvet.

The point I’m trying to make here is that if you are identifying with any of the above, I think we can agree that our expectations were, well, a little ‘off’ when it comes to the world of adult-hood. But it’s okay! It’s okay if you don’t feel like you have your s*%t together and are still holding onto non-grown-up-ness! Responsibilities happen and come along whether we want them to or not, and we ultimately deal with them. Its the standards and the pressures we/society puts on ourselves/us that leads to things being more stressful than they appear. 

The beautiful thing I’ve discovered is that we get to choose how we want to be at this stage of our lives. We haven’t failed, we are actually doing just fine.

I, personally, at 27 years of age, am going to continue to enjoy lollipops, not wearing heels, wearing my pyjamas straight when I come in from work, through a tantrum when my alarm goes off in the mornings, and sticking my arm out of the car window and making waves in the air. 
Who’s with me?

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