I often wonder when true adulthood begins. Is it when you leave your caregiver’s home, take on all your bills, lose a caregiver, get married, or have children? To me, the boundaries are unclear and influenced by various aspects of your life situation. I felt I fully entered adulthood when I got engaged and moved in with my now-husband, whom I’ll call Doug. My mother told me that by living with a man, she would no longer support me, which included removing me from shared memberships. Despite this, I was already paying all my bills and occasionally helped with utility payments while living with her. I also assisted my mother in caring for my uncle, who has autism, so at that time, I felt relieved to gain independence.
I had never truly lived independently; the only apartment experience I had was during college. So, moving into a 750 sq ft apartment with my fiancé was entirely new for me. I learned from eavesdropping on grown folks’ conversations; that I should ensure my name was on the lease, especially since he was the primary earner. My earnings from waitressing and retail jobs barely covered groceries and, on a good day, maybe utilities. That’s when I had a realization that it was time to mature. I understood I needed to concentrate on securing a stable job, planning a wedding, and building a future with Doug. I had always been focused on my acting career and avoided committing to a traditional full-time job, but now, without family support, it was just Doug and me against the world. Just a note: Doug has family who can help when in need, but that’s just my dramatic way of thinking.
This was the turning point in my life when I realized I’d wasted my 20s. With just a little savings, I couldn’t land a full-time job and had to rely on my spouse, who was barely home because of long 10-hour shifts. Additionally, I had a parent who was indifferent to my living situation. I even contemplated a side hustle making edibles (which is illegal in GA), but before you judge, think of Breaking Bad. It seemed like a brilliant idea, but a single review on potency made me withdraw. All these things, being stuck in my head, and my dramatic mindset made me feel worthless. I got so down that I couldn’t even remember if I RSVP’d to a friend’s wedding, only to find out later I hadn’t. That’s when I truly realized I was adulting. I was spiraling and couldn’t find a way out. Doug never knew, since he was hardly around, and when he was, he dealt with insomnia using Ambien (I have tons of wild sleepwalking stories). Giving up would have been the easy way out, but then the phone rang.
In my extremely depressed state, I still must answer this call because it’s from my college bestie, J. Lee. We only talk about once every few months, so I anticipated some news. In her New York accent, she asks, “How you doing, girl?” I let all my emotions pour out, and then I find a sense of comfort.
In essence, adulting is challenging regardless of when you encounter it. The path is uniquely yours, and it offers valuable lessons. These unexpected events serve as foundational elements that shape you into a more resilient individual. I can affirm that without the numerous setbacks I’ve faced, I wouldn’t value the peaceful times or be able to manage future challenges as effectively.
