Growing Up Is Not For Babies

“It’s okay to be a grown up, but sometimes it doesn’t feel very good.”

I’m not sure I’ve ever spoken truer words.

I definitely don’t want to be a teenager again and I don’t think I’d want to repeat my twenties either.  I mean, there has been some good stuff in the last 8.5 years:  Making great friends, graduating from law school, kissing (just all the kissing), parties, babies, globe hopping, learning….  I wouldn’t trade the time, but I don’t want to repeat it either.

26 and admitted to the Indiana State Bar. I became a freaking LAWYER. It came with indecision and uncertainty.
26 and admitted to the Indiana State Bar. I became a freaking LAWYER. It came with indecision and uncertainty.

This has been the most stressful, anxiety-inducing, depressing, least rewarding time of my life.  It’s a hustle and a grind.  It’s a constant compromise.  It’s people telling me that “If you do what you love, you’ll never work a day in your life,” and me going, “Two Words:  Student loans.  One word:  Dumbass.”  I have probably cried and been anxiously ill more in my twenties than in any other point in my life.  (And that’s saying something, because the emotions run strong in this Jedi.)

The stakes are so much higher.  This is not AP Chemistry, this is my career.  This is not the fact that I never had a date in high school, this is love and very possible marriage.  This is not a weekend volunteer gig, this is my pet that I have to keep alive and is not a goldfish and bites.  I could screw everything up so easily.  I have the potential to ruin my life.

I even bited my boyfriend Dexter at his house!  And then I stole his bed and his toys!
I even bited my boyfriend Dexter at his house! And then I stole his bed and his toys!

It’s no wonder so many people I know are seeing therapists.  If I lived in an area where all the therapists weren’t nuns, I would probably be seeing a therapist.  But I can’t, because I need to talk to a therapist about my confusion regarding my agnostic issues about my Catholic upbringing.  And other stuff.

I thought by now I would see the whole future laid out in front of me like a yellow brick road.  I thought I would know exactly where I was going.  I thought I would be a homeowner, headed towards a life with three kids, and a job that I loved.

I also thought I’d have a date to Prom, though, so I’ve pretty much always needed to lower my expectations.

(Thanks tumblr, for being you and creating awesome gifs for me to use.)
(Thanks tumblr, for being you and creating awesome gifs for me to use.)

Being a relatively new adult feels like jumping out of a plane and there’s a 5% chance your parachute won’t work.  The odds are in your favor, but they’re still not great when you’re hurtling towards your own destruction.

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There are ferris wheels though, so that’s pretty okay, I guess.
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