How I Became an Adult

Shortly after I turned 18, I headed off to college at the University of Georgia in Athens. Life soon became one long, giddy string of parties, dates, coffeehouse study sessions, late night heart-to-hearts, concerts, and movies. I was having the time of my life, except for one thing…

My parents kept calling.

This was before cell phones, so the fact that I was never around to take their calls became an issue. A MAJOR issue. After a few months of never catching me in my room, they actually began calling the coffee shops I frequented, and there was nothing more humiliating at 18 than being handed a latte by the cute indie rocker behind the counter and informed with a smirk that my mom had called, and wanted me to call her back.

GAHHHH.

When that didn’t work, my parents actually drove on a secret mission to Athens in order to scope out the places where they knew I was hanging out. The next time I talked to them, my mother broke down in tears. “We went to Jittery Joe’s, Lindsay,” she wept accusingly, before going in for the kill:

“There were weird people there!”

I am not even kidding you. THIS HAPPENED.

Today, I look back on that time and see things both my parents and I could have, and should have, done differently. I had done well in high school, and I was making good grades in college and participating in a wide range of extracurriculars, so my parents should have trusted that I was making good decisions on my own… even if the people in the coffee shop looked weird.

As for me? I can admit this now. I should have called my parents back.

But as you probably remember, the thing about living “on your own” in college is that in your deluded mind, it means that you are an adult. The fact that your parents are paying for everything (or almost everything) has nothing to do with it. YOU ARE AN ADULT, dammit, and you’ll call them back when it’s convenient.

Which, as it turns out, is never.

Today, I can unequivocally state that I was certainly not an adult at 18. I was not an adult because I was still dependent on my parents, both financially and emotionally. I didn’t become an adult for a few more years, and, as I was to learn, that was a very different experience from being an “adult” in college.

And now I find myself in the unenviable position of trying to explain this to my 21-year-old stepdaughter, who has moved back in with us and is relying on us to provide virtually all of her needs, but who feels that she should no longer have to abide by our rules, because, as she puts it, she is an adult.

Sunrise, sunset, y’all.

As you can imagine, we are going through some not-so-fun “growing pains” in this house, but at the same time I realize that variations on this theme occur in homes across America, and now is as good a time as any to write about it. With that in mind, now that I am twice as old as I was at 18 (OMG!!!!), here’s what I’ve learned about true adulthood…

For most of us, becoming an adult is not a magic age. It’s a process, and it happens early for some and late for others. Some of us do became adults at 18, some at 21, some at 25, and a few of us still haven’t gotten there. Becoming an adult is about learning to be self-sufficient, in every way– and about learning to appreciate those who choose to help us muddle through.

Looking back, I think I really became an adult when, at 21, I got a full-time job, moved into my own apartment in a city where I knew no one, and began paying my own bills.

I became an adult when I learned to set a budget and live within it. Thank God my parents taught me that credit card debt was every bit as embarrassing and morally questionable as, oh I don’t know, getting an STD– Today I’m proud to say I’ve never had the clap and I’ve never spent money I didn’t have. Of course, this also means that I’ve never tried the swingers lifestyle and I currently drive a ’97 Ford. I’LL LIVE WITH IT.

I became an adult when I realized that my parents were actually right about some things. This was a tough one.

I became an adult when I learned to apologize, even when it was embarrassing and even when I wasn’t the only one in the wrong, and even when I knew I’d never get an apology in return.

I became an adult when I realized I needed to ditch the boyfriend I’d been dating for so long, because he was just that– a boy. I became an adult when I looked for– and found– a man… a man who shared my financial outlook, my faith, and my beliefs in how to raise a family. And because I made a very adult decision in choosing the man I’d spend the rest of my life with, we have in fact lived happily ever after… IN A VERY ADULT WAY.

I became an adult when I realized that life was about so much more than pursuing my own happiness and fulfillment. I became an adult when I began devoting time and resources to helping others, and realized the true joy that comes out of that.

There are so many more ways that I’ve become an adult… and there are also areas in which I’m still possibly a tiny bit immature. (See this for reference.) The point is, I knew exactly none of these things when I was in college. Back then, I thought (along with everything else around me) that I would sail out of school, find a fabulous job, and live the high life… FOREVAHHH.

I had no idea.

It’s hard telling my 21-year-old that these next few years will probably suck, that they are supposed to suck, and that she will learn a lot from the suckage. In fact, I haven’t told her these things, because I don’t think she’d believe me anyway.

But she will learn, as we all did, that out of the hardship of our first few post-college years comes adulthood. True adulthood. And, I think you’ll agree, it is a beautiful thing. I can’t wait for her to experience it for herself.

When did you become an adult?