Journal for Week 2
“At what age do you think you became an adult?”
This question is part of an exercise my class is doing, regarding a personal life course events exploration. By age, we are supposed to fill in events regarding family, work, community involvement, education, turning points, transitions, and anything else that may be pertinent to our current life course.
Since I’m still in my 20’s (at least for another 6 months), I only have one “real” decade of time to work with.
Part of our reading for the class comes from The Adult Years: Mastering the Art of Self-Renewal. When I first started the book, it was a little too touchy-feely for my taste. (And those of you that know me, know that’s an odd statement to make.) The author went to bed one night a happy, healthy boy – and woke up the next morning stricken with polio. He tells about how one of the nurses on his floor refused to let him give up on his life, and instead, inspired him to become the man he is today. However, the chapter I started this week is called “Life Chapters.” It discusses change by teaching about life chapters and life transitions.
It’s really made me think, and I’ve been attempting to pinpoint specific events in my life that forced me to pick a specific path. I’ve surprised myself at what I’ve come up with. Yesterday, I even called an old boyfriend of mine (we’ve stayed in touch all these years – it wasn’t an “out of the blue” call) to get clarification on a cycle of events that happened seven years ago. It was extremely cathartic!
But the question of “what age” did I become an adult was an easy one for me: 20. It was 1997, and those of you that knew me then will know exactly what happened. I started my first “grown up” job. I moved out of my mom and dad’s house. My dad was diagnosed with lung cancer. I met my Jess (if you don’t watch Gilmore Girls, don’t worry). My Granny died of pancreatic cancer. My dad had lung surgery. My big brother got married. My dad had a triple bypass. I maintained my 4.0 through college that year. That was it – that was the defining age for me.
What about you?
posted by The Girl @ 10:36 AM
6 comments
6 Comments:
According to the laws governing the US, an adult is one who has reached 18 years of age or in some circumstances you can petition the court to become an emancipated minor. Legally I became an adult 27 Dec 1989, I think I became a grown up much later.
I moved out my freshman year of college. I could barely make rent, go to school and eat something more than mac n’ cheese (if I ate at all). Eventually my roommate and her brother went nuts and I moved out – back to my parent’s place. Even though I had reached the legal age to be declared an adult, I wasn’t grown up. I still relied on my parents to give me guidance and a place to stay when I needed it and a swift kick when I didn’t seem to be as smart as I could have been.
I think I actually became a grown up the day I left my parent’s home with a truck bed full of my stuff and drove halfway across the country to TX. I chose to move close to my boyfriend (now husband), find a job, make rent, and make a relationship. I have to rely upon myself now that I was more than 1 hour away from my parents. I moved to Texas to become a grown up even though I’d been an adult for several years.
I don't know if I have an answer to this question, but I wanted to share a funny story.
When we got married, Russ and I were living in different states. After discarding many options, we decided we'd get a U-Haul at my parents' house, load it with wedding gifts, drive it to my apt, load it again, and drive it to his town where we'd be living.
So I talked to my dad and let him know that Russ and I would be handling the moving and that I wouldn't be needing his help. His response was priceless: "Uh, yeah. You're *married* now; you're Russ' problem, not mine."
So that was when I became a grown-up in my dad's eyes :)
I was 24 when I became an adult. At the age of 23, I had a job, had just graduated EMT school, a somewhat relaible car, and was beginning to really feel like a adult. Well, I met a girl (not The Girl), so I quit my job, sold my car and moved away with her. It turned out really bad.
So at age 24, I had no car, no job, and living back with mom. I realized nobody was going to fix this for me. Not my parents, not my older brother, not my friends. I had to fix it. I was an adult now.
30
On my 30th birthday my grandmother died and I still had to go to my stepson's wedding anyway. That grandmother, whom we all loved, was someone that kept us all feeling like children, incapable at everything. Suddenly, I no longer had to hide things from her, lie to her. I was pregnant within months.
That whole day changed me forever for good. While I've always been happy that I never ever ever had to don stretchy pants in my 20s, it was all treading water until then.
I don't know if I can specifically give it a number, but I would say February 15, 2004. So I guess I was about 28 1/2. That was the day I became a single parent to an eleven month old child, when my husband left for Iraq, and I was in a foreign country with no parental help. Everything I handled on my own. I do believe that I will be closer to an "adult" when I buy our first house.
I don't know...I'm 26 and only have occasional glimpses of my life as an adult. I don't know that I've completely become one yet (or what needs to happen for me to feel like one).
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