So, I’m about 578 percent positive that there’s a better, more eloquent way to say this. One that features flowy metaphors and allusions...but I’m gonna just skip all of that and start by saying that today sucked. Oh, did it suck.
Like, it sucked to the point that the fact that I wore a dang near perfect outfit couldn’t even save it. Yes, that bad. (Mostly because some of the suckage can be attributed to a random rip in said perfect dress, magically forming in a very unfortunate spot in said dress’ lower back region…ugh.)
I would go so far as to say it was my worst day of adulting and working so far. Aside from the various crying fits I’ve had over missing my dog and understanding that college is, indeed, completely over, adult life has been pretty sweet and awesome to me. Except for today. Today, again, sucked.
So, on my way home from my sucky day, I called one of my best girlfriends who just moved to a completely different part of the country for a job that is the first of many brave steps she will take on the way to accomplishing the stuff that makes her soul shine. She told me about the first official meal she made in her adult life, in her adult apartment. Quesadillas. More specifically, the ones her dad makes. And after a laughter-filled story about how she bought spicier Rotel than she was supposed to and accidentally burned the chicken, my heart felt lighter. (Your best friend’s laugh has that effect).
And I guess imagining her in an apron with big hair and burnt chicken quesadillas that still managed to taste good combined with my ripped dress, slightly defeated spirit and single strand of hair that never fully cooperates made me laugh. Ridiculously hard. Strangely erratically. Just downright silly.
And ohhhhh my gawssssssh it felt good.
It felt good to get it. To really get it.
As fun as it is to build up this whole adulting thing in our minds, it’s much more practical and filling to get that it’s not so much different. There does not have to be a moment where you put down all the stuff that your 17 year-old self loved and trade it all in for cheese plates, Bermuda shorts and ugly underwear. (NEVER BUY UGLY UNDERWEAR, OK? Just, like, don’t. ) I like to believe that, if you're lucky, your adult self and your 17 year-old self will share some characteristics (not the ones involving liking stupid boys and wearing Hollister perfume). I like to believe that, if you're lucky, your adult self will have the same thirst for adventure, belly laugh and love for sitting on the floor with your girlfriends eating pizza and watching horror films. Maybe, adulthood will just bring beer to the pizza parties, more confidence and better style.
You can sign the contract, choose an apartment, purchase a couch for that apartment and turn in the proper numbers for direct deposit. You can get a Costco membership, fill your fridge with three different brands of Moscato because you have a salary and you can, and you can apply for a credit card. You can do all of that. You can spend your weekends visiting different cities and complain about the fact that you have to get your vacation time approved, but smile because you’ll get paid for it once it’s approved. You can receive overtime, benefits and a bonus. You can do, buy and sign all of that.
I don’t think that the big magic in adulting has anything to do with brewing our own coffee. I don’t even think it’s in knowing that the coffee grounds we delicately sprinkle in our coffeemakers were purchased with money we made ourselves by performing a skill we spent four years and paid thousands of dollars to receive the big “ok” from some higher learning institution to be qualified to do. I don’t think it’s about that at all, but I think that making it about that makes for funny Tweets and Instagram captions. I think it makes for quirky graphic tees to Snapchat to your friends because it’s “so them”.
But to be really real, I think adulting has got so much to do with taking a moment to acknowledge that you’ve taken a step toward whatever it is you hope to accomplish with your beautiful, precious life. I think it’s taking a deep breath and understanding that you did something that you didn’t have to do, maybe that you didn’t even want to do because it’s getting you closer to your dreams than sitting down and eating Hot Cheetos ever will.
I don’t think that the hardest part of adulting is accepting that you don’t get the coolest credit card because you can’t get approved because you, well, have no credit. I don’t think it’s in realizing that you have to actually pay for water and electricity and trash pick up (wtf). I don’t even think it’s about that horrid moment that you realize that eating healthy does actually cost more than Ramen noodles and Easy Mac, and that you no longer have the luxury of a mom who’s buying it for you and making you eat it.
I think it’s in mentally allowing yourself to feel capable and ready. I think it’s in understanding that no, you probably are not prepared for every situation that’s coming- but you’ll get through it anyway. You will not ever stop learning. You will always be climbing some sort of hill, but darling…that means there will always be a moment of deep breath and victory once you conquer it. I think it’s silencing the voice inside of you that desperately wants to keep you small because you’re safer that way. Yah, you are definitely safer that way.
But safe isn’t fun. Safe doesn’t win wars, and safe won’t make your dreams come true.
You will have sucky days. Your dress will rip, your story will fall through (journalist probs), your hair will frizz and you’re gonna not go to the gym sometimes because the last thing you want to do when life is kicking your butt is go feel inadequate on a treadmill. You will have those days…but they won’t be every day. And you will stand up, and you will laugh and life will go on.
A bad day is not a bad life, and you should love on yourself something fierce because you’ve managed to stand up and try again after every single one.
It doesn’t matter who treats you like an intern in the office that is your life, all that matters is that you take a moment to understand that you’re a full-time employee with benefits and value and all of that.
You’re an adult because you’ve taken the next step and you’re moving and trying and going and owning your soul and your own process of getting there.
You don’t have to prove your adulthood to the world, but you do need to accept that you're capable and here. You really do.
With Love & Glitter,